The Snowy Woods
by Butterfly Kitty
Summary: Movieverse. It is December. Four months after settling in with the Baker, things start happening. Cinderella's stepmother comes back and demands Cinderella live with her again, Lilla and Jack realize things they've never realized before, and the witch is reborn. Now it's up to them to save to village from destruction again!
1. The Return of Stepmother

"Ella?"

I slowly looked up from the bowl of porridge I had been stirring with my spoon. Jack had already devoured all of his food, the baby (Peter) was sipping formula from a bottle, Lilla was sneaking a cookie from the pocket of her wolfskin coat into her mouth, and Mr. Baker was looking at me expectantly. I quickly tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear and forced a smile.

"Yes?" I asked sweetly, dropping the spoon.

"I, uh, I asked why you weren't eating very much," Mr. Baker said.

"Oh," I said. "I'm just not very hungry I suppose."

"I'll have it then!" Jack said,grabbing my bowl and starting to devour the porridge. Lilla giggled, taking another sugar cookie from her coat pocket.

"Are you sure there isn't anything I can get for you?" Mr. Baker asked kindly.

"No, I'm okay," I said softly. "Would you like me to start clearing the dishes?"

"Oh, sure. Everybody seems to have finished up," Mr. Baker said. "Lilla, would you like to help her?"

"Sure," Lilla said around a mouthful of cookie. She got up and took her dish, and I took Mr. Baker's and Jack's two dishes. We went to the kitchen and put them in the sink, and I took the pots and pans used for today and put them in the sink as well. As I went to work scrubbing sticky porridge and leftover bread dough from the miscellaneous pots and pans, Lilla paused and looked at me.

"Ella, do you believe in true love?" she asked.

"A lot of people do," I said, not looking up from my work.

"Yeah but do_ you_ think it's real?" I bit the inside of my cheek. Lilla was still looking at me expectantly. As I opened my mouth to respond there was a loud banging on the door. Mr. Baker ran to get it, and there, standing at the doorway, was my stepmother.

~/~

_Flashback to a dream...: _

_"Mother?" I said softly, reaching a hand out to a translucent woman, shrouded in pink mist. "Mother, why are you here?"_

_"They're looking for you..."_

_"Who is Mother?"_

_"Your stepmother... she wants you to work for her..."_

_A series of images floated in front of me, projecting old memories of the abusive woman and her two awful daughters. __My stomach lodged itself in my throat. I fell to my knees, trying to breathe. The insults. The pain. The hurt. The tears. My body felt ragged and worn, my heart like a rock in my chest. I started sobbing, crying for my mother._

_"Don't let her get you. She will only be worse..."_

_"Mother..."_

_~/~_

"Cinderella!" She barked.

"Oh, Miss...?" Mr. Baker started.

"Christine. Who are these children?" My stepmother motioned to Jack and Lilla, who had come forward now.

"This is Lilla, she's 12, that's Jack, he's 13. My son Peter is 4 months old now, and Ella over there is-"

"15, I know, that's my stepdaughter." My stepmother walked across the room to me, cornering me. I bit my lip. The woman smelled of whiskey and cigarettes, and I forced myself not to wrinkle my nose. "I never said you were allowed to leave home."

"I-I couldn't find you after the giant destroyed everything..."

"That was like 4 months ago!"

I could tell my stepmother was getting pissed. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mr. Baker hand the baby to Lilla and start to usher her and Jack out of the room. My stepmother glared at me, taking a step forward. I stepped back, walking into the counter behind me. My hands clasped the edge of it, my breath hitching as she smirked and said;

"You, little miss Cinderella, are coming with me."

And with that, she grabbed a fistful of my hair and started marching out of the baker's house, dragging me by my hair with her. Mr. Baker ran after us, Lilla and Jack peering around the corner.

"Christine, ma'am, I apologize sincerely but you cannot do this, this young maiden can't go and live with you!" he cried. Stepmother turned and glared at him.

"She is my _slave,_ I can do what I wish with her," she snarled. I flinched at that word. I've _always _hated that word. Slave. It left an unpleasant feeling in my stomach, promised of beatings and bleeding.

"She is no one's slave, in fact she is _my _adopted daughter, since you clearly prove incapable of raising her properly-"

"I have two perfect daughters! When her father died he left his good-for-nothing _wench_ of a daughter behind, I was merely trying to raise her to be a hard worker!" My stepmother was furious now. She threw me into the chariot she came in, turned around, and kept yelling at Mr. Baker. While her back was turned, I slipped out of the chariot and started running away.


	2. Running

My lungs were burning by the time I had reached the woods. I was being pursued by my stepmother and her chariot-driver. The horses were running much faster than I was and were only a few feet away from me just as I felt as though I would collapse. I had gotten a good head-start but it wasn't enough to avoid Stepmother. But still, my feet pounded the ground as I ran into the woods, the snowy woods, where piles of old snow and scattered dead leaves lay. I heard the chariot come to a stop, the horses screaming. My stepmother started screaming something, but I couldn't hear because I was already far into the woods. I finally collapsed into a snowbank, breathing heavily, my lungs screaming. I lay there for minutes, maybe hours, in the snow, trying to catch my breath and suppress the tears that were threatening to fall. The terror of my stepmother was overwhelming, and then I realized that I couldn't go back into the village. She'd find me. Maybe I could live in the forest. Yes, I could live in the woods! I closed my eyes, letting the cold snow seep through the thin fabric of my dress.

All of a sudden I felt familiar hands grab my arms. My eyes snapped open, and I let out a small scream when I saw Stepmother's face. How could I be such a fool? Of course she would have followed me! My stomach flipped as she started to drag me back to the chariot. She threw me in it once more, slapping me across the face.

"How stupid are you?" she yelled. "Driver, head for my house!" I hugged my knees to my chest, staring up at Stepmother. "How dare you run from me! I have cared for and nurtured you for almost 10 years now and you repay me like this?"

"I-"

"No!" She slapped me again. "I don't want your petty excuses! When we get home I have a long list of chores you need to do! The house is still a wreck from when the giant destroyed the village!" I cringed, knowing that when I get "home" I will have a lot of work to do.

I wonder how Mr. Baker, Lilla, Jack, and the baby are.

As the chariot rolled up to my old house, I noticed how much of a wreck it truly was, especially with the damage the snow and ice did. Stepmother grasped my arm, digging her long nails into it, and dragged me into the house. As soon as she shut the door, she shoved me to the ground. As I started to try to get up, she kicked me.

"Stay down," she said menacingly. I did. "Your stepsisters are upstairs, probably sleeping. However, you will not be sleeping until you finish all your chores." I sighed. "You have four months worth of chores, Cinderella. I would suggest you get off your lazy ass and do them!" She threw a large packet of papers at me, containing several written chores.

"You... you told me to stay down..." I said softly.

"Get the fuck up now, Cinderslut, and do your fucking chores," Stepmother yelled. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, got up, and went upstairs. The first chore on the list; do the laundry.

* * *

"Jack?"

"Yes Lilla?"

"Do you think Ella made it away from her stepmother?"

I looked up. I had been mixing a bread dough for tomorrow's stock when Lilla came in. She had sat and watched me for a moment before asking this. I stopped kneading the dough and looked at her.

"I really, really hope so," I said.

"Has she ever told you much about her stepfamily?" Lilla asked. I paused, thinking for a minute.

"Not that I can remember," I said. "But I hear her wake up in the middle of the night every night and cry. Sometimes she screams. Maybe that has something to do with it."

"Why did her stepmother call her _Cinder_ella? Isn't it just Ella?"

"I'm not sure."

Lilla was quiet for a moment. She started to get up to leave, which upset me because I really liked having her around. She stopped though, and sat back down.

"Jack?"

"Yes, Lilla."

"Do you think she's okay?"

"I'm sure she's fine. I bet her stepmother just missed her and wanted to spend time with her."

"But _she hurt her _Jack, remember? Mothers don't hurt their children!"

"My mother used to slap my head sometimes," I said. "I knew she was kidding though. She always joked around with it too."

"Mine never did anything like that. She was very cautious." Lilla frowned. "I miss my Mum."

"I miss mine too," I confessed. "I wonder if Ella misses hers."

"She doesn't even have a father," Lilla told me. "Her mom passed first, her father remarried, and then he died."

"Mine left a while ago," I said quietly.

"Mine too."

* * *

It was the next day. I had stayed up all night working. My eyes burned from having them open for so long, my hands were shaking, and my body was exhausted, but I had gotten about 15 of my chores completely finished, mostly work outside on the house. I had spent a majority of the night on the roof.

"Cinderella!" Stepmother barked. I turned around sharply, just as I was about to get an apple. "No food until you have finished your chores!" I bowed my head, retracting my arm and starting to walk away.

I should have kept running.


	3. Apple Bread

A scream echoed throughout the town, waking me up.

I groggily opened my eyes, slowly sitting upright while small pieces of hay stabbed my sides. I looked to my right - there was Jack, sound asleep in a pile of hay next to mine. Mr. Baker still hadn't gotten around to building us beds, but it was okay because I kind of liked sleeping so close to Jack. It calmed me, comforted me. We slept in the loft above the kitchen, located behind the actual store part of the bakery. I slowly climbed down the ladder, not surprised to see Mr. Baker already at work in the kitchen, feeding Peter and baking pastries. He turned when he heard me come in, and said "good morning Lilla."

"Did you hear that scream?" I asked him. He nodded, handing me a bottle.

"Feed Peter for me?" he asked. I went right to work, luckily Peter loved to eat so I had no problems.

"What do you think it was?" I asked. He frowned slightly, hesitating before he answered.

"Probably just the wind," he eventually said. I wasn't content.

"Jack told me yesterday that there were rumors going around that Ella's stepmother-"

"_Yes,_ Lilla dear, I've heard those rumors."

"She's been gone for _five days_ Mr. Baker, could those rumors be true?"

"I doubt it, she seemed like a nice lady," Mr. Baker said through gritted teeth. His fist clenched and he started kneading the bread dough more aggressively. I bit my lip.

"Oh," I said. "Cuz those two little brats down the street, Hansel and Gretel, told me that they would always hear loud noises in Ella's house, and their mother told them not to go near that house. They live very close to Ella. They said they see her run into the woods sometimes."

"Lilla, lesson one, don't believe everything you hear. For all you know, Hansel and Gretel might be..." Mr. Baker trailed off, lowering his voice as he said "mentally retarded."

I gasped. "That's so mean!"

"Well it's a thing, Lilla, and I don't mean it to be cruel, but they seem to be not right in the head."

"Mr. Baker, that is just plain nasty."

"You guys woke me."

We both turned to see a very tired Jack standing at the doorway. I smiled.

"Morning Jack!" I said perkily. He groaned.

"Is there breakfast?" he asked.

"I have some muffins," Mr. Baker offered.

"Ugh, fine," he said as Mr. Baker handed him a blueberry one.

"Well, things would be easier if you would just eat meat..." he started to say.

"Milky White would hate me if I ate her cousins!" Jack protested, taking a large bite from the muffin. I giggled.

"Would you like me to go milk her?" I asked Mr. Baker. He started to reply but Jack cut him off.

"She only lactates for me and Ella. No one else can get a single drop of milk from her."

"Jack, that's not how cows work..." Mr. Baker said.

"You try milking her then!" Jack said, taking another large bite from the muffin. "Thifs iffs a vewwy goofd muffim."

"See?" Mr. Baker said. I giggled again as Jack got a giant splotch of berry juice on his chin. As he finished off the muffin, he wiped his face with the back of his hand and announced that he was going to go milk Milky White. As he left Mr. Baker said; "Oh gosh, what are we going to do with him."

* * *

"Mother said be good..."

I mumbled this over and over under my breath as I worked without sleep. How many days has it been? One, fix the roof; two, clean the bathroom; three, mop all the floors; four, put in new windows; five, weed the garden... Today was the sixth day. Right.

"Nice Cinderella, kind Cinderella..."

I hated that name. Cinderella. It was what my stepfamily calls me, not my real name. I'm just Ella.

"What's the good of being good?"

I gritted my teeth, rubbing my eyes. I haven't eaten since before I left the bakery, and even then I didn't eat much of my dinner that night. I wish I had known... maybe Stepmother wasn't awake! Maybe I could go get myself some food! I looked at the list of chores again. About a third of them were crossed off, the next chore being 'sew Lucinda a new dress.' I groaned. I was definitely going to need some food if I was to deal with my stepsister today. Getting up out of the ashes next to the fireplace where I had been cleaning, I went to the door of the basement, only to find it locked.

"Nevermind Cinderella, kind Cinderella..."

I stood, thinking for a minute. The bakery! If the windows were unlocked, I could slip out and go get food there! Running down the stairs again, I bolted for the windows of the basement that were just above ground level, finding them to be unlocked. I smiled, opening the window and slipping out into the cold.

A loud, shrill screech, coming from the woods, suddenly could be heard. I recoiled, screaming a little as well, then regathered myself. Just the wind, I told myself, trying to fight the growing anxiety building up inside of me. Just the wind.

A thin layer of snow was blanketing the ground, concealing the icy streets of the waking town. I lived closer to the outskirts, so I had to walk further to get to the bakery, which was located more towards the middle. I shivered as it started to snow a bit. I eventually approached the bakery, slipping a bit as I walked up the stairs. There was a sign on the wooden door that said "sorry, closed! come back later!" Even so, I knocked on the door. After a minute, the door finally opened, revealing a small, dark haired girl wearing a wolfskin coat.

"Ella!" Lilla cried, throwing her arms around me. I flinched a bit, but she didn't notice because I hugged back. She pulled me in, shutting the door. "Mr. Baker, Ella's back!"

"Ella?" Mr. Baker suddenly appeared in the shop, carrying three plates filled with all sorts of yummy-looking pastries. My stomach growled.

"Hi," I said softly, giving a fake smile. He put the plates out on the counter, rushing over to me.

"Are you okay?" he said quickly, inspecting me.

"I'm fine," I said softly.

"Oh you're shivering, Lilla, go fetch her a coffee and bring back a plate of the warm apple cinnamon bread I just pulled out." Lilla rushed off and he turned back to me. "Oh goodness, I'm so glad you're back and away from that-"

"I'm just here for food..." I cut him off, looking down. "I... she hasn't really let me eat, and I'm starving, and I thought I might purchase myself a muffin or something so I could, ya know, eat..."

"Oh..." Mr. Baker frowned. I bit my lip, figuring he saw me as rude. "You're... going back?"

"I have to. I'm sorry Mr. Baker," I said. Lilla came skipping back in with a mug of coffee and a plate of bread as he sat me down at a table.

"One lump of sugar or two?" she asked cheerfully. "Why does everyone look so sad?"

"She's not staying," Mr. Baker said. "Even though she wants to." Lilla's face fell.

"You're not?" she asked.

"I can't," I said. "Stepmother doesn't even know I'm gone, at least I hope so."

"Lilla, would you go get Jack with the milk so he can say hello to her before she leaves?" Mr. Baker asked. Lilla nodded, setting the mug and plate on the table and walking away with her head down/

"I feel terrible," I said. "I didn't mean to ruin your morning! I'm so sorry..."

"Don't be, it's great seeing you," Mr. Baker said. "How has your stepmother been treating you? I've wanted to go and check in but I'm so busy now..."

"Oh, she's, um, great," I said, looking away. There was a silence after that.

"You look like you haven't slept in days," he said after a few minutes. I opened my mouth to respond but Lilla came back with Jack.

"Ella!" he said excitedly, giving the bucket of milk to Lilla and running over to hug me. I flinched a little again, but hugged back as well. "I've missed you!" Lilla came over to me, throwing a lump of sugar in my coffee and pouring in some fresh milk. I thanked her and started eating my bread.

We talked for a long time, and I was even served seconds and thirds. After I ate I was actually quite full, and we kept talking long after I was finished with my apple bread and coffee. I liked it. It made me remember that there were some people who cared about me, that there was somewhere I belonged.

"I should probably open shop," Mr. Baker said finally. My stomach flipped.

"It's... it's that time already?" I asked, my face paling.

"Yes but you don't have to leave," Lilla said. "You could stay with us."

"I-I can't!" I cried. "I have to get back now." As he opened the door and flipped the sign, I walked towards it.

"You should visit again!" Jack said, smiling.

"Can you come over at least once a week?" Mr. Baker asked. "I need to know you're okay." I nodded, saying "goodbye" to them and running out.


	4. Gretel

_"HELLLLLPPPP!"_

I almost dropped the plate of cupcakes I was bringing out to the shop when a little girl burst in through the door. She was out of breath and fell to her knees at the doorway. It was getting closer to the end of the day, and we were going to close up shop in an hour or so.

"Last minute cupcake?" I offered humorously, going over to the girl. She looked up. "Gretel?"

"Not funny Red," she said. I rolled my eyes.

"It's _Lilla, _not Red," I corrected. Gretel took a cupcake with pink frosting and shoved it in her mouth as Mr. Baker came into the shop from his bathroom break, followed by Jack. "I don't suppose you're planning on _paying_ for that cupcake, are you?" Mr. Baker started laughing.

"She's like you Lilla," he said. Gretel got up and sat at one of the tables. Her lovely fuchsia dress had been torn and tattered, and the white apron that usually accompanied it had been torn off. Her shoulder-length blonde hair, usually in corkscrew curls framing her face, was now in loose waves, and matted and snarled. Her eyes were baggy, as if she had been crying a lot. Jack went over to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked her concernedly. My cheeks grew hot with a sudden anger I couldn't even explain. She gave him a smile.

"What happened?" I asked irritably.

"That's what I was going to tell you, duh!" Gretel said, annoyed. Mr. Baker and I exchanged a look, rolling our eyes and turning back to the distraught girl. "Okay, okay, so here's the story. Me and Hansel were protesting because our Mum didn't have enough food - she limited our portions and gave us tough meat! - so we decided to march into the woods until we get better food. But while we were there, we stumbled across a lovely house! It was made of only the finest pastries, much better than these _things_ you call cupcakes." She wrinkled her nose and I slowly put the tray of cupcakes I was still holding on the ground. Mr. Baker and I rolled our eyes again, but Jack seemed to be hanging on to each word she said. "Anyway, we started eating. After a while, an old, ugly hag of a woman came out and brought us in, fed us some porridge and warm milk, and gave us a place to stay for the night. When we woke up this morning, Hansel was in a cage in her kitchen! Terrified, I screamed really loud and started running out of the forest, but I got lost and I just figured out my way back and now I'm here!"

"The scream..." I murmured. "So it _wasn't_ Ella after all..."

"You've been through so much,is there anything I can get you?" Jack asked, patting her shoulder. She gave him a smile,and I narrowed my eyes.

"Why, if you could get me a nice warm blanket because I am quite chilly..." she started. Jack nodded and bolted off to get her a blanket. She giggled, shooting me a triumphant look. With a "humph!", I turned to Mr. Baker.

"Does she expect us to help her?"

"Well, I hope not. I already have so much to do, between caring for Peter by myself, and watching over the shop, and now I also have to find a way to get Ella away from her stepmother..." I bit the inside of my cheek. He had tried to convince me that her stepmother was a nice lady, but nice doesn't mean good. I learned that in the woods. And Ella's stepmother _did_ seem like a nice lady, at least until she dragged her own daughter out by her hair and forced her to come live with her. Now that Mr. Baker seemed almost nervous about Ella's situation, it made me a little anxious as well. Maybe she _was_ in trouble after all. Jack then came in, holding his blue wool blanket that his mother had knitted him before she died.

"Jack, you can't give her that one, it's from your mother!" I said.

"But it's the best one I own, and Miss Gretel only deserves the best!" Jack protested. Gretel beamed.

"Oh Jack, you are just such a sweetheart aren't you?" she gushed. Jack blushed,handing her the blanket. I glared at Gretel.

"May I stay for dinner?" Gretel asked sweetly, twirling her hair. "And maybe stay the night as well? I'm very shaken up and we need to come up with a plan to save my dear brother."

"_We_?" I scoffed. "Oh, hun, there's no_ we_. It's just you on this one." Jack glared at me and I felt my stomach drop.

"We _have_ to help her Lilla," he said bitterly. "It's our duty."

"Since when is it our _duty_?" I asked. Jack said nothing.

"Sooo... may I stay?"Gretel asked, giving Mr. Baker her largest, most fake puppy dog eyes. Mr. Baker sighed.

"I suppose we can make room," he said. "Now, I have to start dinner, Jack, can you close shop for me?"

* * *

_"I'm a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm. _  
_And the scars that mark my body, they're silver and gold..."_

I sang softly to myself as I continued to work. Day 5, no sleep. No sleep tonight. Can't. Sleep. Too. Much. Work.

My eyes had dark circles under them. My body was exhausted, physically and mentally. Stepmother was there, waiting for me when I got back, and she was furious. My stomach was covered in bruises. My head was still bleeding.

Beer hurts when it gets in your cuts. I reeked of it.

"I hate cleaning up your goddamn cigarette butts," I muttered, looking at the door. "Why the hell do you smoke in the living room?" I crawled under the table, still trying to get the butts out of the shag carpet."This is impossible..." I crawled out and threw the butts in the trash, cursing under my breath as I did so.

"Cinderella!"

I clenched my jaw and turned around, seeing Stepmother at the doorway.

"Yes, Stepmother?" I said through gritted teeth. She was smoking again, and tapped the cigarette so the butt fell in the rug. I bit my tongue, but I wanted to scream.

"Cook us dinner, we're hungry."

"May I have some dinner?" I asked as sweetly as possible. Her eyes flared.

"You snuck out this morning to get food, Cinderslut. Maybe if you hadn't done so, I would let you. Now... We're still waiting!" Stepmother left, leaving me and my grumbling stomach behind.

"I'm hungry again..." I murmured, walking to the kitchen and washing my hands. "Maybe I'll sneak a little... No, Ella, you could get caught. Just do as you're told, and maybe she'll show you some kindness."

After an hour or so I finished preparing my stepfamily a sufficient meal - chicken, potatoes, and green beans - and served them. Florinda and Lucinda were the first to complain - saying that the chicken was too tough. I slowly backed out of the room, retreating to the basement.

"I need to clean the living room..." I murmured, crawling into the ashes at the fireplace and drifting off...


	5. Lucifer the Cat and Menaces to Society

"Wake up Cinderella!"

I yelped, feeling a sharp pain in my ribcage as Stepmother kicked me awake. I slowly sat up, being knocked back down to another blow.

"Go clean the kitchen, and stop slacking off!" she yelled, storming back to the stairs. "Fuck, why can't you do anything right?" She left, slamming the door. I rubbed my side, slowly getting up. It was light out.

"Damn, how long was I asleep?" I murmured, rubbing my eyes. "Ow!" The soot on my hands had gotten in my eyes, burning them. I squeezed my eyes shut, blinking so the tears would hopefully wash the ashes out of my eyes.

I went to the kitchen, sighing as I saw the huge mess I had to clean. Stepmother was sitting at the table, already drinking shots and smoking. I wrinkled my nose, keeping my head down as I began to clean the dishes. After a few, I felt something furry on my leg. Looking down, I saw my stepsisters' stupid cat Lucifer. He hissed, scratching my leg. I rolled my eyes, wincing as his claws dug deeper, and tried to push him away with the leg he was attached to. Continuing to wash, he only kept scratching and scratching my leg. Suddenly it stopped. I smiled to myself, pulling one of the dishes out of the sink full of water to dry it. As I did that, Lucifer suddenly bit deep into my leg. I yelped, the dish slipping out of my hands and falling to the ground, scaring the cat away and shattering into a million pieces. Stepmother was on me in an instant.

"You incompetent fool!" she bellowed, and as I turned around, she shoved her cigarette against my arm. I shrieked, trying to move away, but she had one arm around me, not permitting escape, and the other hand was shoving the lit cigarette into my skin, burning it.

"Stop!" I yelped. She snickered, shoving me to the ground so I landed in the broken plate. Several glass shards dug into my skin.

"I wish you weren't so worthless," she growled, flicking the butt of the cigarette off so it landed on me. I looked at my arm. There was a small, circular wound, bleeding. Stepmother then kicked me. "Get back to work Cinderella!" She then walked out of the room, not before grabbing her drink. I started pulling glass shards out of my arms and back.

"How much longer of this...?" I sighed to myself. "I wish I was with the Baker and all them. I miss them so much..."

~/~

Once I had finished cleaning the kitchen I washed my hands and wandered into the hallway, trying to figure out which chore was the most urgent. I eventually found myself in the laundry room. On the ground was heaps of dresses that Lucinda, Florinda, and Stepmother had worn in the previous week. I sighed, rolling my eyes when I noticed that Lucifer the demon cat was curled up, asleep in Stepmother's favorite gown.

"Stupid cat," I muttered, filling the wash bucket with water. I hate hand-washing the laundry. As I busied myself with the task, Lucifer eventually found his way against my legs, rubbing himself against them. I glared at the long-haired tuxedo cat, and he looked up at me with humor flickering in his green eyes. "Don't think I'm not mad about what happened."

"Maowww..."

"Look." I showed him the cigarette wound. He sniffed it, softly grazing his rough tongue over it. "Ew, gross, stop."

"Meoow?"

Continuing my work, Lucifer eventually curled up next to me and fell asleep. I looked down at him, smiling a little. Maybe he wasn't so bad. I reached out a hand to pet him, and he suddenly leaped away, hissing at me. I recoiled.

"Stupid cat," I said again, looking back down at the laundry as he stalked away, casting a long, dark shadow against the wall.

My mind started wandering. Why did he run away like that? Was he scared? I thought back to the previous nights, where I heard loud, painful mewls coming from other rooms as I worked. Was Stepmother so drunk that she hurt her own cat too?

_Stop that,_ I commanded myself. She wouldn't. The only one Stepmother would ever hurt was me. Not her precious daughters and certainly not her perfect, _darling_ cat.

* * *

"We need a plan!" Gretel wailed for the eight-hundred-and-sixtieth time. I sighed exasperatedly. "My poor brother is going to get eaten by that EVIL woman!"

"Will you shut up already? We're _thinking_.Why do you suppose we didn't open shop today? Because we're trying to come up with a plan to get you out of the mess _you created_!" I was fed up with the girl's complaining. We had been up since sunrise,and now it was high noon and me, Mr. Baker, and Jack were still thinking, while Gretel just sat there twirling blonde curls around her fingers and yelling at us to hurry up. I could tell even Jack was having a hard time keeping his cool.

"My sweet, plans don't happen on their own," he said. Gretel burst into tears,but I could tell she had spent hours rehearsing them and had used them on people more than that.

"But Jaaack, if you think of something, you'd be my hero!"

"I wish Ella was here," I said suddenly. "She'd know what to do."

"Ella..." Mr. Baker said softly, staring at the door. "This would be the perfect excuse to get her from her stepmother..." I looked up sharply.

"I'll go," I said quickly. Mr. Baker's eyes widened.

"No, if anyone's going, it should be me. This is something an adult has to do," he said. "That is, _if_ we need her."

"Oh, we need her," I said, nodding my head at Gretel,who was still wailing, and Jack,still fawning over her. Gretel looked up as Mr. Baker started to put on his boots and scarf.

"Where are you going?" she demanded. "We still haven't thought of a plan!"

"Relax, _princess_ Gretel, I'm going to try and get Ella so she can help us," he said.

"A scullery maid?" she cried. "Servants can't help! Servants can't do anything!" Mr. Baker's face flashed with pure fury. Jack slowly walked over to me, putting an arm in front of me. I blushed, but bit my lip. Mr. Baker slowly walked over to Gretel.

"Ella. Isn't. A. Maid." He was seething anger, but seemed like he was trying to keep it under control. "She is not a scullery maid nor is she a servant. Ella is a _person_, Gretel, just like you and me. She just happens to be much more useful than you are." And after that, he left, not before grabbing his hat. Gretel scoffed.

"I don't see how a _cleaning lady_ can be more useful than I am," she sneered. I glared at her.

"You'll see once we rescue Hansel because of Ella," I snorted. The pretty girl glowered at me.

"At least _I_ don't have to sleep in the ashes," she said. "She can't even afford a proper bed. Oh wait, neither can you, _orphan_." I flinched, tears springing in my eyes. Gretel smirked. Jack started clenching and unclenching his fists.

"There's nothing wrong with orphans," he said through gritted teeth.

"They're mentally messed up. Take Ella for example. Dirty, poor, depressed, abused," Gretel said. Jack and I both looked at each other nervously.

"The rumors are true?" I asked.

"Oh trust me, they aren't rumors," Gretel said. "One time, when I was six and she was probably eight, I was down by the lake with Hansel, who was seven at the time, and we saw her stepmother on the other side of it, trying to drown her."

"I knew she wasn't fond of her home life, and Mr. Baker seemed anxious to get her home, but I never could have imagined..." Jack trailed off. I nodded.

"I know what you mean," I agreed.

"But she deserved it. Orphans are a menace to society and she probably would've grown up to be a thief or something," Gretel said. Jack and I were furious by now.

"Ella has a heart of gold!" I yelled.

"Jack turned out to be a thief," Gretel pointed out. I looked at Jack nervously, but he just suddenly frowned. Gretel smirked. "That's what I thought. Not too long before Lilla ends up in prison."

And then, Gretel was on the ground, crying out and holding her eye, while Jack stood over her, gasping for breath.


	6. Getting Ella Back

Snow started to fall as I trudged through the town, my breath coming out in clouds and swirling around me. I zipped up my jacket.

I resented Gretel. I truly did. I found her to be a bratty little rich girl with no regard for people who have it tougher than she does. But helping her was the perfect excuse to get Ella back from her stepmother, so I would do what I must. Her house was on the edge of the village, I remembered, close to the woods.

The wind started picking up, swirling flurries of snow at my face. I squinted, making out a large building further ahead. That had to be her house! I started to walk a little faster. I eventually got to the house, and I went up the steps to the front door. Taking a deep breath, I hesitated for a minute. I had no idea what would happen in there. Ella's stepmother seemed very unstable, and for all I knew, she could have killed her. But then again, if she had killed Ella already, she wouldn't have anyone to do her chores for her. Plus, Ella had only been there a week. Not much could have happened in a week... right? What if her stepmother refused to let Ella go? That could easily happen. In fact, I could bet a golden harp it would. Not that we still had that harp sitting in the basement or anything...

I shook my head. Whatever happened, I had a job to do. So I rapped on the door three times and crossed my fingers.

Nobody came to the door for a minute. I knocked again. Were they even home? Then the door finally opened, revealing a sad-looking brunette dressed in rags and covered in bruises and cuts.

"So sorry for the wait," she said, keeping her head down. "Christine is in the living room. Would you like me to escort you?"

"Ella, it's me!" I said. Her eyes flashed with worry as she looked up. "Listen, we-"

"I'm sorry sir, you're going to have to speak with my stepmother," she said. Then she added, lowering her voice, "I'm not allowed to interact with guests further than welcoming and escorting them Mr. Baker." I raised an eyebrow. She looked really anxious. I followed behind her as she led me to what I figured to be the living room. It smelled strongly of smoke and beer, and Ella's stepmother, along with two blondes sitting on either side, both with darkened sunglasses, was on the couch. Ella started to shake a bit, I noticed, as she went up to her stepmother.

"Mr. Baker is here to see you," she said, her voice trembling a little. Her stepmother glared at her.

"Go clean something of mine, Cinderslut," she snorted.

"Yes ma'am," Ella said quickly, scurrying off into a different room. I took off my hat.

"What do you want?" The stepmother was slurring her words a little. She must be drunk, or high, who knows. That might make it a bit easier.

"Miss." I bowed my head, trying to be as polite as possible. "I just need to ask a favor."

"Oh, I'm not the woman for that. You should ask my slave," she said. I gritted my teeth and bit my tongue.

"It's actually about your, uh, _maid_," I said, forcing myself to use the derogatory word. Christine raised an eyebrow.

"What about that wench?" she asked. I clenched my fists.

"I was wondering if I could borrow her for a few days," I said tentatively. Christine's bloodshot eyes widened.

"Why?" she asked. "It's not like she's worth anything."

"What if I gave you a golden egg?" I offered suddenly. Christine raised an eyebrow.

"No way in hell you have a goddamn golden egg," she said, narrowing her eyes.

"Why yes, actually I do," I said. "In fact, hand Ella over now and I'll bring it tomorrow when the snow eases up." Christine seemed to think for a minute.

"I want the little whore back in a week," she said. I smiled.

"Thank you miss," I said, bowing a little. She rolled her eyes.

"Cinderella!" she bellowed, causing the two girls to flinch. "Cinderella! Where the fuck is she?" The brunette suddenly appeared at the doorway, a black and white cat at her heels. Her stepmother got up and went over to Ella, and she seemed to cower under the older woman.

"Yes Stepmother?" she asked. The cat went over and nuzzled the legs of Christine.

"Beat it Lucifer," she muttered, kicking the cat. It hissed and ran away. Ella was shaking visibly, I could see it from where I was standing. "You're going with the baker for a week."

"Really?" Ella asked as she broke out in a smile. Her stepmother slapped her.

"Stop smiling, you ungrateful little bitch!" she yelled. Ella held the side of her face, the smile replaced with pure terror. "God, after all I've done for you..." Before Christine could do any more damage (I could see her balling her fists) I went over and stood by Ella.

"We best be on our way now before the snow gets any worse," I said quickly. Stepmother gave one final glare to her fearful stepdaughter, then sat back down on the couch.

"Get out," she growled. I put on my hat, Ella put on her boots, and we walked out into the white, icy road. As soon as we were out the door Ella hugged me. I noticed that the smell of smoke and alcohol had clung to her, but I didn't care.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you..." she said, looking up at me. She had a large, pink hand print on her face, and several cuts framing it. She smiled a big, toothy grin, and I couldn't help but to smile back.

"Sorry I could only get you out for a week," I said. "But we need your help. I feel kind of bad, pulling you out of a dangerous situation only to throw you in an even more dangerous situation, but it's urgent."

"Yeah but I'd rather be around people I care about than here," Ella said, hugging me again. I hugged back.

"I'm going to try to eventually get you out of there for good," I said to her. "I promise."


	7. The Pink Bunny

"What the...?"

I walked in behind Mr. Baker, who stopped at the doorway, shocked. Lilla and Jack were sitting at a table, munching on cookies and having a casual situation, and a blonde girl I didn't recognize was sitting by herself at a different table, bawling her eyes out. She had a black eye as well, which I winced at when I saw. All three looked up as we walked in.

"I left you guys for what, a half hour?" Mr. Baker said. Lilla and Jack jumped up and ran over to me, wrapping me in a big hug. I smiled.

"MR. BAKER, JACK HIT ME!" the girl in the corner screamed.

"Gretel was making fun of us!" Lilla defended. "Ella, too!"

"I don't even know her!" I said, laughing.

The girl I presumed to be Gretel came over with a smirk. "Trust me, I'm sure we've met before."

"Um... anyway... So, what's the problem you needed me for?" I asked Mr. Baker. He gestured to Gretel, explaining to me how an old woman apparently captured her brother Hansel and they had thought all day but couldn't come up with a plan to rescue him.

"You're just a scullery maid," Gretel scoffed. "It's not like you're gonna be of any use. What are you useful for, dusting off lamps? Pfft, yeah, that'll be real useful in the woods when we're fighting the evil hag." I bit the inside of my cheek.

"One of us has been very difficult to work with," Lilla said, irritated. She and Jack looked over at Gretel.

"I see why," I said, nodding. Gretel glared.

"_My_ servant isn't even allowed to speak," she said. "And she doesn't disobey her masters so much that she has to be beaten like _you_ do." I looked away as tears sprung in my eyes.

"Gretel, honey, that's enough," Mr. Baker said. He put a hand on my arm. I flinched. "Ella isn't a servant. She wasn't bought by rich people to serve."

"Don't take it to heart," Lilla said, pulling me with her as we sat down at a table. Mr. Baker sat next to me, and Jack sat next to Lilla. They were sitting rather close, I noted, grinning to myself. Gretel sat between Mr. Baker and Jack. Gretel looked at me expectantly.

"Well, _slave_, you were brought here for your brains. Come up with a plan," she sneered. I frowned.

"Well, I don't think we can really have a plan until we see what we're up against. We should go into the forest and see what we can do," I said. "We'll need to each pack a bag of sorts though, with food, water, and some other basic things." Jack nodded.

"We should leave tomorrow and use the rest of today to pack and rest," he said. Mr. Baker smiled at me.

"Don't worry about your bag, Ella. I'd suggest you spend today resting up. You look like you haven't slept much, and I doubt you have much energy left after dealing with Christine."

"That's a very nice offer, and I'm very grateful, but wouldn't I be a bit more helpful if I worked?" I asked kindly. Mr. Baker shook his head.

"We'll get Gretel to pull her own weight somehow," he said humorously. I laughed, but Gretel fumed. "For now, go in the back and get some rest. You deserve it."

"Thank you," I said, getting up and going through the door that led to the house part of the building. I found my way over to the guest room, which had served as my temporary room until Mr. Baker could find a different place to put me, and sank into the bed. It had a creaky frame and a thin mattress, but it was much better than sleeping in the ashes. I curled up under the quilt, and fell right to sleep.

~/~

_"Mother...?"_

_The halls were eerily silent. I didn't like it. My tiny, four-year-old self wandered them, clutching my floppy pink bunny doll to my chest. I twirled its ear with my finger nervously. __"Rosie, I don't think anybody's here," I said to the toy. It just stared at me with its shiny black eyes. __"Father?" I called into my parents' room. Nothing. Rain pelted the windows, and I heard a creak in the floor somewhere. I yelped, hugging Rosie closer to me. Sticking my thumb in my mouth, I decided to go sit in my room. _

_After a few hours of playing with Rosie, I heard the creaking of a door, and ran down the hall to see my father coming in! "Father!" I cried, hugging him. He just looked at me with sad, tired eyes. "What's wrong Father?"  
_

_"Nothing, Ella, go play," he said, going and sitting down on one of the armchairs. I ran over to him and climbed on his lap._

_"Will you play tea party with me and Rosie?" I asked as nicely as possible. He sighed._

_"Ella, I can't right now," he said. I frowned. "Go play by yourself for a while."_

_"Can I play with the neighbor kids?" I asked._

_"No, they're too little. Their mother told me that the boy is three, and her little girl is only two." My father seemed to be getting quite annoyed with me. _

_"Where _is_ Mother anyway?" I asked. Father looked down at his hands._

_"Ella, your mother is..."_

~/~

I woke up with tears streaming down my face and gasping for breath. I sighed, wiping the tears away. Swinging my feet over the bed, I walked over to the chest in the corner that contained some of my things, and opened it. There, sitting on top of the few dresses I owned, was Rosie. Her fur was old and faded, and she was missing an eye, but it was still her. I grabbed her and went back to my bed, curling up under the blanket and hugging her to my chest. Tears started rolling down my face. Rosie was the only part of my mother I still had. She had sewn the bunny for my first birthday and ever since then, Rosie was my only friend, my playmate,and my companion.

I gently kissed the fuzzy forehead of the bunny, twirling its ear a few times with my finger. Looking out the window, I noticed it was dark out. Groggily, I rubbed my eyes, hid the bunny under my pillow, and wandered out into the hall. It wasn't very long. The guest room was the last room at the end of the hall, next to Mr. Baker's room. On one side of the hallway was a living room, on the other was a bathroom, a wash room, and a door to the stable where Milky White and the golden chicken that laid golden eggs stayed. At other end of the hall was the kitchen and above that, a storage room with hay and ingredients, where Jack and Lilla slept. That was the last part of the house and through the door in the kitchen was the shop. I looked in all the rooms as I walked, seeing nobody. I then found myself in the shop, where Mr. Baker, Lilla, Jack, Peter, and Gretel were eating dinner. The baker smiled as I walked in, rubbing my eyes.

"Morning sleeping beauty," he joked. "You were out for quite a while."

"How long?" I asked, yawning.

"I dunno, few hours. I got you around noon, and now it's dinnertime," Mr. Baker said. "We're having porridge again, if you would like some." I smiled, pulling up a chair and serving myself a small bowl.

"It's absolutely disgusting. We just had this last night!" Gretel complained, pushing her bowl away.

"Well Gretel, some people aren't as rich as you are. This is all we can really afford for now," Mr. Baker said.

"I think it's delicious!" Jack exclaimed, serving himself another bowl.

"We also have some fresh bread," Lilla offered. I gladly took a piece of bread and started eating.

"I packed you a backpack, it's in the living room with the other ones. You may look in it and make changes as you see fitting," Mr. Baker said.

"I'm sure whatever you packed for me is wonderful," I said through a mouthful of bread. He chuckled.

"Someone's hungry," he said. I nodded, spooning some porridge in my mouth.

"Isn't porridge only for breakfast?" Gretel asked, wrinkling her nose. Lilla glared at her.

"Well, hate to break it to you, but it's not like we can afford a giant bird on our plates every day," she said sarcastically. I laughed. Gretel just fumed. After three or four bowls (I lost count) and a few pieces of bread, I excused myself to go take a bath, and then I fell asleep in my bed again, this time hugging my pink bunny to my chest as I slept.

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**Reviews are greatly appreciated ;P**


	8. The Morning Before

I awoke to the smell of fresh baked goods and the sound of Gretel complaining. I rubbed my eyes, gently placing my bunny under the pillow as I walked out to see Mr. Baker preparing a few loaves of bread, Gretel protesting, and Jack and Lilla eating doughnuts that didn't sell yesterday. Lilla was also feeding Peter some mashed up bananas. He looked up as I walked out.

"Morning Ella," he said with a smile.

"Hi," I said sleepily, yawning. "What's that for? I thought we were closing shop for when we go out into the woods."

"I'm preparing the rations," he said. "We'll need food if we're going to be out in the woods for a while.

"He's only giving us each a loaf of bread and a bag of homemade granola!" Gretel cried. "We'll need more than that!"

"There's berries and such in the woods," I pointed out. "And I'm sure I can make a meal or two while we're out there." Gretel wrinkled her nose.

"I don't want to eat food in the wild! We don't have to live like barbarians when we're out there do we?" Gretel complained. "And why is there only one extra dress in my bag?"

"It's not like we each have a million dresses like you do," Lilla said, taking a bite.

"The forest will make my hair uncurl!" Gretel wailed. Jack rolled his eyes.

"Oh shut up," he said.

"I thought you liked her?" I heard Lilla say softly to him.

"Then I realized what a bitch she is," he said. "I'd rather spend my time with a real girl like you." Lilla blushed furiously.

"When are we leaving?" I asked Mr. Baker. He finished packing the bread into the bags, then put one bag in each backpack.

"Probably around high noon, so we can have time to get ready," Mr. Baker said. I nodded. "Have you looked in your backpack yet?"

"Oh, not yet, sorry. May I do that now?" I asked. He nodded, handing me my backpack. I carried it to my room and emptied the contents of it. One dress that I guessed used to belong to Mr. Baker's wife before she... passed; a thermos filled with water; a spout that I assumed could be used to purify water; a pair of socks; a blanket; a bag containing several handfuls of granola and a small loaf of bread; a few jars of baby food and a bottle for Peter, which I figured Lilla and Jack didn't have; and a knife. It seemed like a very useful ensemble and there wasn't much I would change - not anything, really. I didn't mind carrying the baby's items - I kind of liked having to care for the baby when Mr. Baker couldn't. It made me feel like I had a purpose.

* * *

Peter drooled on himself. Again.

I sighed, cleaning the banana spit off of his shirt for the hundredth time this morning. "When do babies learn how to feed themselves?" I asked Jack. He shrugged.

"Beats me," he said, eating probably his fifth or sixth doughnut.

"Pig," I muttered with a laugh.

"What? They're not going to eat themselves," he said. I laughed.

"You have the filling on your chin," I said, pointing. He started wiping his chin, missing it every time. "Oh, just let me." I licked my thumb and wiped the filling off of his chin. He blushed as I did so, which gave me a weird feeling in my stomach - a good feeling, yes, but quite strange. It was as if I was happy and excited but nervous at the same time, but different from the excited and scared feeling I got when the wolf bared his teeth at me. Our eyes locked. My stomach flipped. Giving a nervous laugh, I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and spooned some mashed banana into the baby's mouth, looking away.

Mr. Baker came out with a large golden egg. Jack and I looked at him curiously.

"I have to go give this to Ella's stepmother," he said. "And I'm going to ask the neighbor to feed Milky White while we're gone."

"Rumpelstiltskin? Or that boy next door who keeps trying to convince me that the wolf tried to eat him, even though I_ tried_ to tell him that the wolf is dead?" I asked.

"Oh God, please don't entrust either of them with Milky White," Jack said. "Rumpelstiltskin is such a creep! He stares at me out his window while I milk my cow!"

"Neither, don't worry," Mr. Baker said, putting on his scarf and opening the door. "The nice old lady, Mrs. Potts, who lives across the street will do it. She's very nice. Her son Chip is quite younger than you two."

"I heard she used to be an actual teapot," I said.

"Who told you that?" Jack snorted. "The boy who cries wolf?"

"Does he even have a mother?" I asked. "Or does he live alone?"

"I'll see you in a little while," Mr. Baker said, walking out. I shook my head and continued to feed Peter. Gretel came over, and I rolled my eyes.

"Where is the maid?" she asked. "I need her to polish my shoes for me before we go into the woods."

"Why? There just going to get dirty again," Jack pointed out.

"And don't call her a maid," I snapped. Peter spit again, laughing as the drool got on my hand. I wrinkled my nose and wiped it on his bib.

"They're horrendous," Gretel explained, ignoring me. "So where did you say she was?"

"Probably in her room," Jack said as Ella walked out into the kitchen.

"Where did Mr. Baker go?" she asked. I told her where he went and she bit the inside of her cheek.

"...Oh," she said softly, probably nervous about him being with her stepfamily. Gretel went over to her.

"Polish my shoes," she demanded. Ella sighed.

"Go sit down, I'll be there in a second," she groaned, going to the bathroom to get shoe polish. I glared at Gretel.

"You have no right to speak to her that way," I said, crossing my arms. Gretel shrugged.

"I'm upperclass, and she's subservient to me," she said as if it was natural. "I can speak to her however I wish."

"There is so much wrong with what you just said," I muttered, shaking my head as Ella came back with a towel and some shoe polish. Gretel sat down and held her feet out to Ella. Ella looked down as she started polishing Gretel's shiny black shoes. "If Mr. Baker was here he'd probably slap some sense into you," I said, rolling my eyes as Peter pushed the spoon away from himself, babbling as he did so. I got up and put the small bowl and spoon in the sink in the kitchen. Jack followed me.

"I literally cannot stand that bitch," he said through clenched teeth.

"Says the boy who was trying to be her boyfriend last night," I joked. He sighed.

"She needs to learn that not everyone is as fortunate as she is, but that it doesn't affect their character," he said.

"Wow that's deep," I giggled. Suddenly we heard a cracking sound and a yelp. We rushed out to see Ella holding the side of her face and Gretel fuming.

"What the hell?" Jack yelled.

"She got polish on my foot!" Gretel cried. Ella kept her head down as she gathered the materials back up and ran to the bathroom.

"What is wrong with you? You can't slap her because she made a mistake!" I shrieked. Gretel looked at me defiantly.

"She's a servant, she gets beaten every day. She should expect this from people of the upperclass," she said simply. "It's in her genetics. Because of how she was born she has no rights."

"There is so much wrong with that," I said. "You know what? All of your ideals and beliefs are completely ridiculous and morally wrong! How dare you! I am so sick of hearing you say over and over how Ella isn't worth anything!" I was yelling now. "If you ever do that again I will personally come and rip every damn curl out of your thick head and shove them-" Jack put his hand over my mouth to muffle my next words. Gretel looked genuinely horrified by what I was saying, but I was furious. I could tell Jack was too, but he seemed better at controlling his anger. Gretel muttered something under her breath and started eating a doughnut off the table. Jack and I looked at each other, nodded, and went back to go look for Ella.

We found her in her room, sitting on her bed facing out the window. She seemed to hear us come in because she turned around quickly, fear etched in her face. She sighed when she realized it was just us.

"Hi guys," she said softly. She had a red handprint on her cheek, and I winced at the sight. "What's up?"

"You okay?" Jack asked. "Are you hurt?" Ella shrugged.

"It doesn't matter," she said, forcing a smile. I frowned.

"You sure?" I asked, sitting down next to her. Jack sat on the opposite side.

"Yeah," Ella said, shrugging. "She's right. I should expect it." Jack and I looked at each other nervously.

"You heard that?" Jack asked. Ella laughed a little.

"Gretel isn't exactly subtle about these things," she said, rolling her eyes.

"No kidding," I snorted.

"It's not true though," Jack said. "You're worth so much more than what Gretel thinks. She's just too thick to realize." Ella smiled, a real one this time.

"Thanks," she said. "It means a lot."

* * *

I trudged through the streets on my way back from Christine's house. Snow no longer fell, but it was bitterly cold. There was a few inches on the ground though. I hoped it wouldn't slow us down too much.

Christine was a nightmare. When I showed up with the golden egg she was already wasted, and couldn't remember a thing. She was demanding for Ella and clearly couldn't remember the deal. I had to explain it to her several times, a process that probably took an hour alone. I eventually just had to hand her the golden egg (which she kissed several times) and leave.

Beforehand, I had gone to Mrs. Potts' house and asked if she could come over to the house a few times a day to feed and check up on Milky White and Mineral, which was what we had named the golden hen. She was more than willing to, and even offered to care for Peter while we were gone. I didn't want to trouble the older lady, especially because she already had her hands full with Chip, but she insisted. I told her I'd repay her with free pastries, we shook on it, and I had left with the golden egg under my arm.

I looked up at the gray sky, hoping and praying it wouldn't snow again. We needed to at least get into the woods without flurries. I eventually got to the shop, where I saw only Gretel sitting at a table. I took off my hat.

"Hello," I said. "Where are the others?"

"With that stupid peasant," Gretel muttered.

"She's not a peasant," I said, irritated. This was going to be a long trip. "So where are they?"

"I dunno, probably somewhere in your house behind this tiny shop. They got all mad when I hit her and they left."

I stopped. "You _hit_ her?" Gretel shrugged.

"Yeah, so?" she asked.

"God," I muttered, shaking my head and walking back into the house. I found Lilla, Jack, and Ella sprawled out on Ella's bed, talking. "Hey guys." They all sat up and looked at me.

"Gretel hit Ella!" Lilla yelled. I nodded.

"I know," I said. Ella looked down at her hands, biting her cheek.

"You do?" Jack asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Is everybody ready? We're leaving. Get your backpacks, and I'll get Gretel and set some ground rules for her. We're leaving in five minutes."

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**Reviews are nice :)**


	9. Venture to the Woods

**You know that feeling when you finally get to watch a show that you've been dying to watch, it exceeds your expectations, and you're like "I don't want to do anything but watch this show for the rest of my life."? Yeah. I started Once Upon A Time the other day and holy shit, I'm obsessed. (Yes I am aware of just how late I am XD) Also... the new Gravity Falls was freaking amazing omg after I watched it I literally had to scream. **

* * *

"I'm _tired_."

"Gretel, we've been walking for only ten minutes, we aren't even in the woods yet!"

"Shut up Red!"

"That's not my name! It's Lilla! Ugh, how did you_ ever_ get out here in the first place?"

I glared at Gretel, and she glared at me. We were only at the outskirts of the woods and we had been fighting the entire way so far. Jack, the Baker, and Ella, who was holding Peter (Mr. Baker had decided to bring him along because as much as he trusted Mrs. Potts, he didn't want to be separated from his baby), had stayed silent for the most part, with the exception of Mr. Baker stopping at Mrs. Potts' house to tell her that she wouldn't need to care for the baby and Ella whispering to Peter when he stirred. I rolled my eyes and looked away as we stepped into the woods. Ella held Peter tightly against her chest. We were all dressed in our warmest attire, especially the baby, who was wearing a tiny winter hooded coat that Ella sewed him a few weeks ago, sweatpants, and was swaddled in several warm blankets. Peter was fast asleep against Ella's chest. She covered his face slightly with a leftover part of the blanket, probably so his face wouldn't get cold.

She was quite fond of that baby. I couldn't understand why.

"Lead the way Gretel," Mr. Baker said. "I would assume you know where to go."

"Oh. Right," Gretel said nervously, looking a few ways. "I might have forgotten."

"Gretel!" I screamed. "How the hell did you forget?"

"The only reason I knew my way back was because of the breadcrumb trail Hansel left us! But now it's gone - the birds must have eaten it or something!" Gretel cried. I shook my head.

"Do you recall any landmarks? Does anything trigger your memory?" Jack asked. I shot a smile at him. He always seemed to know what to do. But Gretel shook her head as she scanned the scenery.

"Not really. Everything looks the same - dead and white."

We all looked around. Then Jack pointed at some faint footprints in the snow that were heading towards the town. They were far between, so whoever had left them had been running, and it had to have been recently.

"What about these?" he asked. "Are these yours?" Gretel looked at them, and after a moment she nodded, her blonde curls bouncing.

"Yes, I believe so," she said. We started to follow the tracks deeper into the forest. At some point the baby began to wail, and Ella trailed behind, trying to calm Peter, as Jack fell in step with me.

* * *

We kept walking, and the farther we walked, the more faded the footprints became. It must've been hours since we started, and I could tell everyone was getting tired and hungry. We could all seem to sense that we were getting close to where the tracks came from, however. I noticed that Gretel's expression became nervous, Jack gritted his teeth, Mr. Baker clenched his fists, and Red was looking around nervously. I frowned, hugging the baby close as he kept on screaming. The air around us was getting quite heavy as well, as if something evil or bad was present. I shivered as a light snow started drifting down. The sky was getting darker, I noticed.

We came up to a clearing in the icy, cold forest where we would stop for a little break before moving on. Mr. Baker took Peter from me to try and calm him down, and Lilla, Jack and I sat down on a fallen log. Digging my water canteen out of my backpack, I took a few sips of the cool water. Lilla and Jack were whispering to each other a little further down the log. I stole a glance over at Mr. Baker, and noticing his back was turned, I quickly lifted my sleeve. The cigarette wound from the other day was still there, yes, and it looked infected as well. Rolling my eyes, I dumped a little bit of the water in my palm and rubbed it on the wound, sucking in a deep breath as pain blossomed throughout my arm.

"That'll never work."

I looked up, rolling my sleeve down quickly, to see Gretel standing over me. I looked back down.

"Yes," I said softly.

"You need an ointment or something," she said. I nodded, lowering my head. She sat next to me, and I looked back at her, shocked. She grabbed my arm and rolled the sleeve back up. "Lucky for you Mr. Baker shoved all the first aid stuff in my bag." She dug out a random tube, looked at the label, squirted some of the product in her fingers, and spread it on my arm over the wound. I gasped, gritting my teeth. "Burns, doesn't it?" I nodded. "It'll go away shortly."

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

"Doing what?" Gretel asked back.

"Being nice to me," I said. "I'm lower-class scum, subservient to middle and upper class, remember? That's what you said, anyway."

"Oh." Gretel suddenly grabbed the ointment back, shoved it in her bag, and glared at me. "I'm not doing this for you, peasant. I'm doing this for my brother. Alas, after this is over, don't expect me to even bother with _your kind_ again." She stood up and walked over to Mr. Baker, leaving me by myself.

"She'd be a good healer," I murmured to myself. "If only she wasn't so..." My thoughts trailed off, and I sighed. Mr Baker then came over with Gretel.

"Lilla, Jack, come over here please," he said. They slid over to sit next to me on the log. "It's getting quite late, as Gretel has so_ kindly_ pointed out." He rolled his eyes and stretched the word 'kindly.' "But we need to keep going, as she has said multiple times. However, she still has no clue where we are, so we will stop here for the night to rest and eat, and first thing tomorrow, we will keep going." We all nodded except for Gretel, who crossed her arms.

"We need to get Hansel," she pouted. "I'm afraid the hag will eat him or something!"

"Gretel, no woman in her right mind would eat a kid," Lilla said, narrowing her eyes. "Besides, it's probably a huge misunderstanding."

"No, I think there truly is something wicked in the woods," I said. Gretel glared at me.

"Who said you could speak?" she snapped. Mr. Baker's eyes widened.

"No, Gretel, she's probably onto something. She's amazing at knowing these kinds of things," he said. "What do you think it is?" I frowned.

"I'm afraid I don't know," I said truthfully. "However, I know for sure that whatever we're up against isn't going to be an easy defeat." Mr. Baker nodded. Gretel paled.

"Will I get my brother back?" she asked. I nodded.

"We're doing everything we can," I said.

"Thanks_ peasant scum_," Gretel sneered. I flinched, and Mr. Baker started telling us to roll out our sleeping bags. As I did so I started wondering about Gretel. She _did_ show me that she could be kind, but... why? And then those thoughts led to thoughts of my stepmother and stepsisters...

An image of Lucifer popped in my head, beat up and missing an eye. I froze, trying to force that thought out of my head. Lucifer is their _precious little kitty_, they'd never hurt him.

I think.

~/~

Six days left.

Time was ticking. Although it seemed as though I had a long time, I knew that it would go by fast and before I knew it, I'd be back with my stepfamily, back at square one. At least I knew I had a place to go when I needed to get away.

When we woke up the next morning, a thin coating of snow had dusted the land, and more was falling. I had been asleep in my sleeping bag, hugging Peter to my chest when Jack woke me.

"Gretel is demanding we get up and help her brother," he said to me. I nodded, handing him Peter and crawling out of my sleeping bag. He left to go give the baby to Mr. Baker. As I started to put it back in my backpack, Gretel came toward me. I looked up slowly. She gave a little smile. I bit my cheek.

"How's that wound?" she asked. I raised an eyebrow.

"I'm so confused," I muttered, looking back down.

"Listen." Gretel sat down next to me. I looked up again. "I was wrong, you aren't all that bad. We need you to help find Hansel. I've realized that you're the _only way_ we can get him back. I need them too, yes, but you seem to be the sensible one. But... but you're lower than me. I can't be seen with you unless you're serving me."

"So you're telling me that you are, in fact, using me because I'm good at being a servant," I said, throwing my bag on my back. "I get it."

"No, no, that's not what I-"

"No, don't worry, I'm okay," I cut in. "_I should expect it from people of the upperclass. It's in my genetics. I have no rights_." Gretel paled.

"You heard me when I said that yesterday?" she asked, her voice shaking. "I, I didn't even realize how wrong I was until-"

"No, you're right," I said, standing up. "And don't worry, once this is over, you'll never have to bother with _my kind_ again. Except of course your slaves. I'm sure you'll treat them just the same." With that, I walked over to Mr. Baker, who handed Peter to me.

"Ella, are we close to the place the old woman is?" he asked.

"Gretel doesn't seem to know, but I can feel it. I'm certain we're close to the source," I said. Mr. Baker nodded.

"I cannot thank you enough. You and Gretel seemed to be getting along over there," he said. I rolled my eyes.

"It's just a courtesy. I'm subservient," I said. Peter grabbed a tendril of my brown hair and started tugging it.

"You don't truly believe that do you?" Mr. Baker asked. I shrugged.

"They're all the same, upperclassmen. They're all exactly the same," I said.

"Your stepmother though, she's not-"

"She was, once she married my father. That's why the house is so big. My father was quite wealthy, and when he married my stepmother, she and her daughters became wealthy as well. But then my father... he died, or so I was told. I don't quite remember much about him other than the day my mother died and the day he married Stepmother... Anyway, once he died, Stepmother used all his money for herself and Florinda and Lucinda - my stepsisters - and she forced me into becoming her servant. I know she has some money left, and I know she has it tucked away somewhere, but she's middle class, like you, and I'm lower class, because she took everything away from me and made me work for her," I explained. Mr. Baker put his hand on my shoulder. I flinched.

"Ella..." he said softly.

"It's fine." I shrugged. "She just still has the ego of an upperclassman."

"Mr. Baker?" Gretel said, suddenly appearing next to us. "We must be going now." She glared at me. I looked away. "Hansel could still be in trouble." Mr. Baker nodded.

"Yes, of course," he said. "Lilla! Jack! Get your things together, we're going!"

* * *

**I rewrote this so many times. I hope it's okay!**


	10. The House

I haven't spoken to Ella ever since she lashed out at me.

I honestly kind of felt bad about what happened, but it wasn't my fault I thought. _She's nothing. Stop considering her to be a person. Remember what Father said. The ones of lower-class aren't even people. Don't treat them as if they are._

That's what Father always said to me and Hansel when we were children. We used to cry when Father hit our servant. He never told us her name. We were told that servants aren't supposed to be referred to by their name. But then Father taught us things about the lowerclassmen, about how they aren't people and that they deserve to get hurt. Hansel had a harder time adjusting to the cruelties we were supposed to do to the peasant, but eventually we both started to see things the way Father saw them.

So why was I seeing Ella as a person?

I wasn't supposed to. I was supposed to resent her for what she was. But maybe... maybe Father was wrong. Maybe they're just people too. Like me.

I shook my head, when suddenly I noticed something. I stopped dead in my tracks and Lilla, Jack, Ella, and the Baker stopped behind me.

"What's the big idea?" Lilla cried. I shushed her.

"Shut up Red!" I said, and just as she was about to yell at me about her name, Ella spoke.

"It smells like the bakery," she said softly.

"No one said you could speak," I retorted softly, noticing her recede. I winced as my words seemed to hang in the air, leaving a bitter taste on my tongue. _The ones of lower class aren't even people. Don't treat them as if they are. _"But you're right. It smells familiar." I started walking slowly, following my nose down the trail until we came to a clearing, where a large house sat down a hill and behind the bushes, hidden in fog.

It was made of cookies and other sweets. I inhaled deeply.

"This is it," I said. "Hansel is in there."

"What do we do?" Lilla asked, and she, Jack, and Mr. Baker turned to Ella. I turned to her too, feeling weird for placing my trust in a peasant. She bowed her head.

"I don't know if-" she started.

"Go for it," I said. She smiled and nodded. I sighed.

"How about Jack, Lilla, Mr. Baker, and Gretel stay here with the baby while I check it out, see what we're up against. We'll come back once we see our threat and propose a plan to get Hansel back," Ella said.

"I'm coming too," I butted in. "He's_ my_ brother."

"I should come as well, I'm responsible for you two as well," Mr. Baker said. Ella shook her head.

"I think it's better if the majority of us stays back, in case something happens," she said. "Plus, if whoever the threat is is out and about, I'd rather you be with Lilla and Jack and Peter." Mr. Baker nodded, going toward Ella and putting a hand on her shoulder. I noticed her flinch, and bit my lip.

"Promise me you'll be okay," I heard him say softly.

"I'll be fine, don't worry," she said back, handing Peter to him. "Ready Gretel?"

"Yes, peasant," I said, wincing as the derogatory word slid off my tongue naturally. Ella looked away and we trudged down the path to the house. Mr. Baker, Jack, and Lilla eventually became shrouded in the mist. I followed Ella as we sneaked through to the house. Ella peeked through the window, and I heard her gasp a little as she looked.

"It can't be..." she murmured.

"What?" I asked, pushing her over a little so I could see. Inside, an old lady was passed out on a couch. She had on a ragged black dress and her hair was quite blue. Behind her was a cage... empty, or so it looked like from a distance. "She's the one! Who is she?"

"It's... it's the witch..." Ella said softly.

"The witch?" I asked.

"The one that I defeated along with Lilla, Jack, and Mr. Baker. Well, not so much defeated as accidentally killed...? I don't really know what happened to be honest." Ella seemed confused. "She wanted to give Jack to the giant, so I guess we technically _did_ defeat her..."

"Wait,_ you're_ the ones who got rid of the earth tremors?" I asked.

"They were caused by giants from the sky," Ella explained quickly. "But I don't understand... She's so... _translucent._.."

I squinted. It was true. The woman with blue hair - the witch - was, actually, somewhat seethrough. It was as if she wasn't truly... _alive_. I shivered. I hadn't even noticed it when I was up close to her! I looked at Ella in awe. She really was good at this.

"Where's Hansel?" I asked. Ella narrowed her eyes, trying to peer past the witch.

"I assume he's in the cage," she said. "I don't know what the witch would be planning to do with him though." I nodded. "Let's go back and tell them this information." She turned and started walking away. Suddenly, I saw the witch's eyes open, and they widened when they saw me. I gasped and crouched down.

"Um, Ella?" I said slowly. Ella paused and turned around. I bit my lip.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Run," I said quickly, and I tore up the hill. I got to the Baker and the others and turned around just in time to see what happened next.

It was like a chaotic slow motion scene. Ella ran after me, but tripped over something and fell just as the witch came out. The witch yelled something and Ella shrieked, and then she was dragged into the house.

"Ella!" Mr. Baker yelled, and he shoved Peter into Lilla's arms and ran down the hill. Lilla gave the baby to Jack and ran after him, who nestled the baby in a few bushes and ran after her. I looked down at the baby, bit my lip again, and started to jog after them. They all suddenly stopped.

"This is your fault!" Lilla cried, pointing at me. Jack glared at me.

"How could you?" he demanded. "I get it - you hate her, but that's no reason to sacrifice her to the enemy!" I put my hands up shakily.

"I didn't mean for anything to happen, I swear," I said. Mr. Baker clenched his fists.

"You just _had t_o prove your superiority," he yelled. "We get it! You think you're perfect! Why don't you start thinking about someone other than yourself?"

"I tried to warn her but I didn't even realized she tripped before it was too late!" I cried as a tear glided down my face. "I swear! I'm so sorry, I know why you're mad. I'd be mad at me too. In fact, I am." They all stopped as I started sobbing hysterically, falling to the ground. Lilla crossed her arms.

"Oh stop with the act," she said. I sniffled.

"It's not, I promise," I choked out. "I really, really didn't mean for it to happen."

"Well, at least now we have a valid reason to try and rescue Hansel," Mr. Baker muttered. I wiped my eyes, hiccuping one last time before I stood up again.

"How?" I asked, my voice strained.

"Well, we're going to have to think of a plan ourselves," he said, sighing. "But staying out in the open is dumb. Let's go back up the hill to the baby and think there."

And back up the hill we went.


	11. Chains and Mice

"Run!"

My stomach flipped as Gretel started to race up the hill, and I started to run after her. Gretel, being very far ahead of me, was already up the hill and behind the bushes to safety when suddenly, I tripped. My stomach lurched again as I fell to the ground, catching myself on my hands. As I started to get up, a bony hand gripped my shoulder. I gasped and turned around, coming face to face with none other than the witch herself. She grinned her wide, toothy grin and dragged me into her house.

"Ella!" I heard Mr. Baker yell, but it was too late. The witch slammed the door and kept a firm grasp on my arm. Her thumb dug into the cigarette wound and I winced.

"Hmm, we can't have you in the cage with the boy can we?" the witch muttered to herself. "You're one of them. I recognize you."

"What are you going to do to me?" I asked, my heart racing. My hands were shaking. The witch ignored me.

"I know! The basement!" She began to drag me across the room. I stole a glance at the giant cage in the kitchen, where a boy I presumed to be Hansel was sitting there, staring at me. My breath hitched as the witch opened a door and threw me down some stairs.

As I lay on the ground at the bottom of the staircase, the witch was coming downstairs after me. I suddenly jumped up and backed up slowly.

"Why am I here? Why do you want me?" My voice was quivering, and I bit my cheek. The witch just grinned, approaching me and grabbing my arm again. , "Tell me why I'm here!" She laughed.

"Oh sweetie, don't you realize? I'm dead." She vaporized into thin air in a cloud of smoke and reappeared on the opposite side of me, holding my backpack. "I don't want anything to do with you..." Tossing my bag aside, she pulled me over to the far side of the room where there were several chains attached to the wall, which, surprisingly, was made of steel, not cookies or candy. She cuffed my wrists to the chains and locked them, and as I pulled, they dug into my wrists, making them bleed. I cried out. "No, I simply need your life force. Your soul, if you will." I forced myself to look tough, but I was terrified. "Don't even try to pull, those have steel thorns inside, and you'll simply speed up your death."

"My death?" I gasped. "You weren't out for blood before you died! How_ are_ you back anyway?"

"And I'm not out for blood now," the witch said. "But I'm much smarter than to simply _tell_ you everything my dear, for you aren't dead yet, which means there's a possibility you could escape and tell your little friends. No, you'll have to wait for your explanation." She turned to leave, then stopped. "Oh, and don't think that you _will,_ in fact, escape, despite the precautions. Because I can assure you, Miss _Cinder_ella, that you will not elude my grasp." She then grabbed my discarded backpack, marched up the stairs, and slammed the door shut. Narrowing my eyes, I screamed, yanking at the chains again. The thorns dug into my skin, my blood running down the shackles and dripping to the floor.

Sighing, I slid down the wall, curling up on the ground. I pressed my cheek against the cool surface of the wall, moving the chains a little so I could see the damage I had already done to my wrists. Rings of blood encircled them. Groaning, I closed my eyes. "She called me... _Cinderella_," I breathed, clenching my fists.

* * *

"How do you propose we get her back?" I demanded, glaring at Gretel. "Do you think we can just march in there and get Hansel back and everything will be fine? Just because you're upperclass doesn't mean you're more important! Why are you so obsessed with class?" Gretel was on the verge of tears again, and I continued to glare at her. "We _need_ Ella!"

"Lilla, calm down," Mr. Baker said. I gritted my teeth.

"I will not!" I yelled. "She's really done it this time!"

"What if we went inside while the woman is asleep?" Jack suggested. "That way, we can get them both and nobody gets hurt."

"Do ghosts sleep?" Gretel asked. Mr. Baker, Jack, and I looked at her incredulously.

"Ghosts?" I asked.

"While we were down there, Ella told me that the woman is the witch you guys defeated, and she even noticed that the witch was see-through," Gretel explained.

"But she's dead!" I exclaimed.

"_That's why she said she was a ghost_," Jack said to me, putting his hand on my arm.

"Don't speak to me like I'm stupid!" I snapped, but when I looked at him, I softened.

"David?"

We all turned around, where standing in front of us was the baker's wife, transparent, yes, but still there. But as she started running to Mr. Baker and he held his arms out, her body started to become... opaque. Almost as if she was returning from the dead. As she leaped into Mr. Baker's arms, she became completely opaque.

"Oh, Amelia, I missed you so much..." As they parted, Mr. Baker raised an eyebrow. "How are you here?"

"It's a long story," Amelia said. "Where's Ella? Who is this?" She motioned to Gretel. As Mr. Baker started to fill her in on what had been happening, I handed her Peter, and she cradled him lovingly. He squealed in delight.

"Now you!" Jack and I said.

"What's your story?" I added. Amelia sighed.

"Well, it's really hard to explain. There's a rabbit, a magic white rabbit, who has been running to - or from - something. Every grave he lands on, if the person died shortly or had unfinished business, he brings the person back into the world as a ghost. And... well... the person has three nights to try and become whole again, either by feeling pure happiness or by taking enough souls from the dying to fill the age of the person. Otherwise the person returns to the grave forever. I died too shortly, and I just got out of the grave yesterday... and when I saw you three, I just... I got so happy... And now I'm human again!" Amelia was crying now, but laughing and smiling. It was so nice to see them so happy. Amelia turned to Jack and me. "It's so great to see you two." She handed Peter to Mr. Baker and hugged us. Gretel stood back awkwardly. "Where's Ella? You still haven't told me." She took Peter back as Mr. Baker frowned, his forehead creasing.

"She was taken by the witch," I said, glaring at Gretel. She looked away. "But we're going to sneak into the candy house tonight while she's asleep and get her and Hansel back." Amelia nodded.

"Any chance you could use my help?" she asked. Mr. Baker kissed her cheek, and Jack and I looked at each other, smiling.

"Of course," Mr. Baker said.

* * *

The mice keep squeaking and I, chained to the wall, woke up to the sound of it.

I had fallen asleep some time ago, but judging by how dark it had gotten, I assumed it was pretty close to night, or deep into it, who knows? I sighed, sitting up and resting my head against the wall. Dried blood stained my arms, my palms, the chains, the floor. My wrists, raw. The mice kept their chattering. I could understand them, they were like the birds, small and frail but easily relatable. I admired them, though. Both birds and mice were free, hunted by some, yes, but they could leave, which made them free. I could not, for I was a prisoner.

My stomach lurched as the daunting thought that they might forget me and I would rot here crossed my mind.

A mouse scurried over to me, a brown mouse, a thin mouse, followed by a much fatter one. They looked at me curiously, sniffed the blood. The fat one brushed its body up against my leg, and the thin one climbed the chain up to my wrist, sitting in my hand.

"Hello there little mouse," I said softly, petting its head with my finger. It squeaked a response, then climbed up my body to perch on my head, looking up.

Looking for a way out.

Maybe I was delusional, but these mice seemed to want to get out just as much as I wanted to. "Don't you have a way out?" It scurried back down to my hand and put its ears back. The fat one started slowly climbing up the chain after his friend, but promptly fell down. I picked it up gently and put it in my hand next to the smaller mouse. "Do you two have names?" The small one nodded. "What are they?"

_I'm talking to mice, _my mind reminded me. _They're not going to tell you their names. They probably don't even have names! _But, to my surprise, the small one squeaked out a word that sounded like "Jaq" and then pointed his nose to the fat one and said "Gus-Gus."

"Jaq and Gus?" I asked. The small one nodded. I shook my head, putting them back down. "Oh my God, I'm going insane. I'm talking to _mice_!"

_You talk to birds all the time, _the voice inside my head said. _How is this any different?_

Sighing, I let them crawl back into my hand. Jaq looked at the staircase in the far corner of the room. He crawled to the edge of my hand and stood up on his hind legs, staring at it, almost wistfully. I frowned. "Do you wish to be free?" He turned back and nodded. "Why can't you be?" He looked away, and Gus went over to him, rubbing his head against Jaq's. "What about the rest of you?"

Then, to my absolute astonishment, he spoke real words.

"They are content," he squeaked slowly. "Gus and I are not." He spaced out each word, as if he was trying to choose the right ones and make them sound as close to the real words as possible. I nodded.

"I want to leave too," I said.

"The ghost lady brought you," Jaq said. I nodded again.

"She wants me dead, I think."

"Wants your soul."

"Yes."

"I see."

"Can Gus speak too?" I asked after a moment. Jaq shook his head.

"Ghost lady wanted talk to someone. Cursed me. I speak," he said. "Wanted my help, I said no."

"What happened then?" I asked.

"Tried to drown me. Doesn't know I'm alive." He nodded to Gus. "He saved my life." Gus licked his paw and drew it over his face.

"We're going to get out of here," I said, narrowing my eyes. Jaq grabbed Gus and scurried up to my shoulder as I started to yank at the chains.


	12. Bones and Blood

"The witch is asleep!"

I ran back up the hill to where Amelia, Mr. Baker, Jack, Lilla, and Peter were waiting for me. I had offered to go check to see if the witch was asleep. It was my fault Ella and Hansel were there in the first place so it was my duty to get them back. Mr. Baker nodded and thanked me, handing me Peter.

"May you watch him for us?" he asked. I nodded sadly.

"Can't I come?" I asked.

"We know the witch better than anyone. If anyone can get your brother back, it's us." Mr. Baker gave me a nice smile and I sighed, looking away. "Did you see where they are?"

"I know Hansel is in the cage, I do not know where Ella is, but I'd assume she's in the cage as well," I said. Mr. Baker shook his head.

"I think the witch is smarter than that," he said. "She knows her. She knows who she is, that Ella is with us. Are you sure you didn't see anything else?"

"Positive."

"Okay. Then we'll split up." Mr. Baker turned to Amelia, Lilla, and Jack. "Amelia and Jack will look for Ella, and Lilla and I will get Hansel. If the witch wakes up, we'll just have to deal with her." He looked at Lilla. "And _no eating the house._"

* * *

I cried out as I pulled on the chains again and again, feeling the thorns dig deep into my skin and blood streaming down my arms. Jaq kept yelling in my ear to stop and I refused.

"She wants your soul! This will only speed up your death!" he squeaked. I stopped.

"She didn't say anything about death, did she?" I asked.

"Souls don't wander for very long, so she needs to claim the souls of the dying! Why do you think you're here, chained to a wall?" Jaq sighed. "Humans are strange creatures."

"Why don't souls wander that long?" I asked. "I thought they just stay in the world."

"They do, at least for a day or so. Then they'll find their place, but they can be taken by those who need them as well." Jaq scratched his ear, scuttling down my arm to stand in my hand as I slid down the wall. Gus followed.

"How do you know so much about souls?" I asked. Jaq shrugged.

"I learned it from the ghost lady. She only came to be four days ago, tomorrow will be five, but she seemed to gain the knowledge all at once," Jaq explained. "I guess when you arise from the dead, you just know things." I sighed. "But it is strange that she has more days than the average ghost. Usually you only get three."

"So, when I die, will I... will I _know _like, who took my soul? And will I know what they do with their life?" I asked, starting to shake a little. Jaq stood up on his hind legs.

"No, because you're not going to die. You told me we would escape the ghost lady," he said.

"Yeah, well, look at our circumstances. Does that look like it's happening anytime soon?" I asked.

"You have family," he said.

"No, I have a stepmother. She is not family," I retorted, looking away.

"No, no, no!" Jaq stomped his foot. "Family isn't who lives in your house. Family is who truly cares about you. And I know you didn't come alone." I slowly looked back at him, squinting. Gus' ears went back and he looked at Jaq as well.

"So what do you propose I do?" I asked softly, sliding further down so I was curled up on the ground. My head was spinning.

"Wait."

* * *

I followed Lilla, Amelia and Mr. Baker as we ventured down the hill, leaving Gretel and the baby behind. I still didn't trust her. How could I? But we had to leave Peter with _someone_. Lilla fell in step with me.

"I'm so excited!" she whispered, skipping along. I sighed.

"I dunno about this," I said softly. "I don't know if we're going to find what we're looking for."

"Of course we will!" Lilla said. "We'll find Hansel and Ella!"

"Yeah, but I'm worried about what the witch _did_ to them," I explained. "What if she-"

"Don't think," Lilla said. "Just have hope that we'll find them okay." As we approached the house, we broke up into our groups. We found the door to be unlocked, and it luckily made no sound as it opened. The only sound heard was the witch snoring on the couch. Amelia and I stayed at the door while Lilla and Mr. Baker crept over to the cage in the corner. Lilla gasped softly.

"Where should we start?" Amelia whispered to me. I shrugged.

"Hansel might know something," I said back. We went over to the cage where Lilla and Mr. Baker were crouching down.

"He's... he's not there..." Lilla muttered.

"What?" I said.

"Only his bones..."

I peered around her. She was right. Only the bones of a teenage boy lay on the ground in the cage. "Where is he?" I asked.

"I..." Lilla stopped as her gaze landed on something in the kitchen. We followed her eyes to see another couple of bones on the floor, as well as a giant roasting pan lying in the sink, spattered with blood. I almost threw up. "She _ate_ him?!"

"I don't think it was just for the pleasure of eating human skin," Amelia said, disgusted. "I think as he was cooking, well,_ dying_, she took his soul. But I don't know why she needed to_ eat_ him as well.."

"That is so wrong..." Lilla wrinkled her nose.

"What about Ella?" I asked. Mr. Baker sighed.

"I don't know. Maybe because she was taken later, she'll still be here? Start searching, don't eat anything, and don't wake the witch."

Amelia and I broke away from Mr. Baker and Lilla as we started searching the tiny, edible house. There just wasn't anywhere to hide a teenage girl. But there was a door on the wall closest to the witch...

"Amelia, what about in there?" I asked quietly. We stepped lightly as we crept over to the door, and I looked away, squeezing my eyes shut as Amelia turned the knob and opened the door.

The opened with a moan, but the witch only stirred. Mr. Baker and Lilla came over to us, but we silently told them to stay here and watch the witch as we started down the steps into a steel room. The steps started out made of hard candy and licorice, but then slowly became metallic. The room was pitch black. with no floor, only dirt. The constant squeaking and clicking of the mice echoed throughout the room. I dug through my backpack and dug out a matchbox and lit a match, lightly illuminating the room. Close to us was a discarded backpack, its contents sprawled out on the ground. Amelia began putting everything back in it. Two brown mice, one really fat one and one really thin one, scurried over to me, climbing on my feet and squeaking. The thin one climbed up to my arm and I yelped, shaking it off. It fell to the ground with a _thump!_ and ran back to the corner it came from, followed by its companion. I was joined by Amelia again, and I started walking to the corner they disappeared into. Holding the flame up, I was shocked and horrified at the sight I saw.

Chained to the wall was Ella, covered in blood, and curled up on the ground. The two mice were crawling on her. Crying out, Amelia ran over to her and I dropped to my knees.

"Ella..." I whispered, my stomach clenching. Amelia crouched down and leaned in to touch Ella's shoulder, but just as her finger grazed the surface of her skin, Ella yelped and sat up straight. I sighed in relief and crawled over to her. She was shaking like a leaf as she scooped the two mice up into her blood-spattered hands. She stared at us nervously, her eyes dull and her face pale. "Ella, are you okay?"

"I..." Ella started to say. "Help..." She leaned against the wall and her eyes fluttered. The mice crawled up to her shoulder.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked Amelia anxiously.

"Blood loss," she said softly. "Ella, sweetie, calm down okay? We're going to help you." Ella's eyes closed and she curled back up on the ground. She turned to me. "Jack, go to Lilla and my husband and ask them to find the keys to unlock the shackles on her wrists." I nodded and went back to the door where Lilla and the Baker were standing.

"Ella's chained to the wall, she's bleeding, and I think she's dying. We need the key," I said breathlessly. Lilla's eyes widened and filled with tears, and I hugged her quickly. Mr. Baker pointed to the witch.

"I think she has them on her," he said quietly. I frowned.

"How will we get them?" I asked.

"We'll just have to take them," Mr. Baker said, but suddenly, the witch, eyes closed, spoke.

"I don't think so."


	13. The Rescue

**THE NEW GRAVITY FALLS... AND I JUST... HOLY SHIT... DUDE... STAN... ASDHFDUGFHDAUGNDUJGNDJANGKJLA**

* * *

We all whirled around as the witch stood up, opening her eyes. She smirked. I grabbed onto Jack's arm nervously and Mr. Baker pulled Amelia close.

"You woke up," Amelia stuttered. The witch chuckled.

"Oh, you should know that ghosts don't have to sleep. I was awake for the whole thing," she said. We all looked at Amelia suspiciously.

"To be fair, I became a ghost in the middle of the night last night," she said quickly. "And ever since, I was trying to get back to you guys." We nodded.

"Ella's dying, you say?" the witch asked. Jack sighed, scratching the back of his head.

"I guess I shouldn't have said that..." he said nervously.

"Oh don't worry, I can sense it. The soul is pulling to me," the witch said, vanishing into a cloud of smoke. We rushed down the stairs to see her reappear in front of Ella, curled up on the ground in blood, her eyes shut. "I told you you'd only speed up your own death, you trivial fool." She put her hand on Ella's arm - she flinched - and bowed her head as we bolted over to her, shoving her away. The witch frowned.

"Don't take her life!" Mr. Baker cried. The witch narrowed her eyes.

"Why not?" she growled. "I need hers to regain mine. That is the way of the dead."

"Please," Amelia begged. "From one ghost to another. I just got my life back, and I just want to be with my family. Don't you have anyone you're looking for?" The witch stopped.

"...Rapunzel..." she said softly.

"You're trying to find your daughter," Amelia said.

"Rapunzel isn't her real daughter," Mr. Baker muttered.

"Nevertheless, David, she raised her as her own, and loves her very much," Amelia said. "And I'm sure you know just how I felt, searching desperately for the person, or in my case, people, who you care about. So please, just spare Ella's life."

"_Just this once_," the witch sighed. "If there's a next time, she won't be so lucky." With the flick of her wrist, the chains around Ella's wrists unlocked and fell to the ground. Ella didn't move. We all rushed to her, and I was terrified by the sight. Jack could tell, and he covered my eyes, but it didn't erase what had already been seen. Ella was shaking really badly, and she was covered in her own blood. Her skin was a chalky white, her eyes were dull and confused. She groaned as Amelia and Mr. Baker helped her stand up. Jack retrieved the discarded backpack in the other corner of the room, and we left the house.

Climbing up the hill was a struggle, but we eventually got to the top where Gretel was sitting on the ground where we left her, holding the baby tight against her body. As we approached she stood up.

"Where's Hansel?" she asked. I glared at her, but Mr. Baker was the one who spoke.

"I'm so sorry Gretel," he said, and by the tone of voice, I believed that he was. "Your brother... he's... he's dead." Gretel looked away as Mr. Baker and Amelia set Ella down on the ground. She curled up against the trunk of the tree and squeezed her eyes shut. I noticed that two mice were tucked away in the pocket of her dress but I didn't say anything. It didn't matter. We all sat down next to her except for Gretel.

"You promised," she said softly. "You promised you'd get him back..." She handed Peter to Amelia and stepped back, looking away.

"We're so sorry," Jack said. "I know it won't do any good but we're truly sorry about all of this."

* * *

I sighed as I looked back at the family, sitting around Ella. They truly were a family, I noted. They cared about each other the way a family should. Ella continued to bleed onto the snowy grass she was curled up in, and my shoulders sagged. This was my fault. I caused this. I knelt down next to the wounded girl and Lilla glared at me as the family moved in closer to Ella. I took off my backpack and dug out the first aid kit, pulling out the supplies I needed.

"Can you sit up for me?" I asked Ella, tapping her shoulder. She flinched but got up slowly. I took her hands and pressed a cloth against the wounds around her wrists, and she flinched every time. I then poured some water over the wounds and cleaned them out, using tweezers to pull the dirt out of them. I then pulled out an antibiotic cream from the kit and applied it to the wound, and then wrapped her wrists up in cloth. Ella's eyes fluttered and she slid down the tree trunk, curling up in the snow again. I frowned. "She needs stitches," I said.

"How do you know so much?" Jack asked me. I shrugged.

"My maid is trained in this kind of thing. I used to go on adventures in the fields with Hansel and when we'd get hurt, she'd patch us up." My shoulders sagged when I mentioned my brother. Mr. Baker and Amelia nodded. Mr. Baker started brushing through Ella's dirty, tangled hair with his fingers.

"I'm so sorry it came to this," he whispered to her. She only curled up tighter. "You would've been safer with your stepfamily, wouldn't you? I was selfish, and I'm so sorry."

"You weren't selfish," I said softly. "This whole thing was my fault. I shouldn't have been such a spoiled brat and ran away in the first place."

"No kidding," Lilla snorted. Jack put his hand on her shoulder and whispered something to her, and she nodded, turning back to me. "Sorry."

"We should get some rest," Amelia said. "And then we can go to Mrs. Potts to help Ella tomorrow." We nodded and we all began to roll out our sleeping bags. I got Ella's out and helped her into it. She opened her eyes and looked at me with wide, fearful eyes.

"Thank you," she croaked quietly, her hands still shaking. I nodded.

"Hopefully by tomorrow you'll feel better. Your body just has to make more blood cells," I said. "I read that in a book one time when I was bored out of my mind. I took a nursing book from our library to find out how the maid did it." Ella closed her eyes. I rolled my sleeping bag out next to hers and crawled into it, drifting off...


	14. Conversations With Gretel

"How are you feeling?"

I opened my eyes groggily as Lilla shook me awake, her long, dark hair bouncing as she did so. I rubbed my eyes and slowly sat up, taking in my surroundings. It all seemed forever ago, and the house down the hill seemed worlds away. And was that a mouse in my pocket? Wait, two... As it all slowly came back to me, I realized two things. One - my wrists hurt like hell, and were bound with a scarlet-stained cloth that looked as if it was ripped from a piece of clothing. And two - my head was spinning. I squinted, shaking my head.

"I'm okay," I rasped, clearing my throat. Jack and Lilla smiled at each other and Gretel looked away. I forced a smile as Mr. Baker came carrying the baby, followed by... his wife? "A-Amelia?" I squinted. "Guess I'm not okay if I'm seeing things."

"No, no, it's really me," Amelia said, giving a humorous smile. "I came back the same way the witch did."

"Huh," I said, shivering as I crawled out of my sleeping bag. A light snow was drifting from the sky.

"We need to get home," Mr. Baker said. "There's a blizzard coming soon and it wouldn't be good to be stuck in the woods when it comes." We all quickly packed our bags and started walking. I was quite lightheaded for some reason, so Gretel helped me walk, which surprised me. She looked different. Her blonde hair, usually in her trademark corkscrew curls, hung limp and framed her face in waves. Her baggy eyes lacked the shine they had before, the innocence and naivety gone. And her sneer was absent as well.

"How'd you sleep?" she asked me kindly. I shrugged. One of the two mice - Jaq - crawled up and perched on my shoulder.

"Okay, I guess," I said. "You?"

"Not at all," Gretel sighed.

"Why?"

"They couldn't save my brother," she said, her shoulders sagging. "The witch ate him."

"I'm so sorry," I said softly. "I know what it's like, losing someone. The ache will weaken soon, I promise."

"I know you know loss," Gretel said. "Your whole family is gone." I looked away, and she sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything rude, I just don't know how to... well... have friends, I guess."

"You have me," I said cautiously, unsure if she'd call me "peasant scum" or "below her." She didn't. She just smiled weakly.

"Thank you. It means a lot, really, it does. After I was so mean to you, you should hate me." Gretel paused. "Are you even capable of hate?"

"Trust me, I am," I said softly. Gretel laughed.

"Sorry, I don't even believe you. You're too nice for that!" I let her laugh as my thoughts wandered to my stepfamily. How many days until I had to go back? Five. Right. I swallowed hard, wishing I didn't have to go back. Gretel and I kept trailing behind Lilla and Jack, who walked behind Mr. Baker and Amelia with Peter, who I noticed was coughing a lot. My stomach churned. He can't get sick. Gretel elbowed me gently. "Lilla's limping, right?" I nodded "Okay, it's not just me who sees it."

"We're in really bad shape," I murmured. Gretel nodded in agreement.

"Mr. Baker feels really bad for dragging you with us," she said. "He said so while you were out. He said he was selfish and that you would've been safer with your stepmother." I bit my cheek.

"I think not," I said gravely. "I think I would've been better off dying."

"You don't mean that," Gretel said. "You have so much to live for. People who love you."

"In five days I have to go back to live with a woman who has been using me my entire life. She said so herself, once I become useless to her she'll kill me," I said. "Yeah, I have people who love me. People who'll love me when I'm dead." Gretel sighed.

"Mr. Baker will find a way," she said. "He'll save you. He and Amelia will save you from her."

"Maybe," I said sighing.

"They will," Gretel said. "You and them, you're like family. I see it. My parents don't care I'm gone."

"I'm sure they do," I said. "They must be worried sick."

"If they were worried, they'd send people to find me," Gretel said. "They have the money to do so. But, in case you haven't noticed, nobody's looking for me." My shoulders sagged.

"I guess," I said. "But you do have people who care about you."

"Like who?"

"Me, and Jack, and Mr. Baker, and Amelia," I said. "And Lilla, once she comes around. But she will eventually. I know it."

"I'm so hungry!" Lilla cried. Mr. Baker stopped, and we all gathered around him.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to take a break," he said. "Ella, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," I said. "No worries Mr. Baker."

"You're bleeding," he said. I looked down at my wrists. Blood was seeping through the dirty cloth, dripping down my hands and onto the ground.

"Oh... whoops," I said, laughing nervously. Mr. Baker sighed.

"Amelia, you can take some food from my backpack if you want. Everyone should eat and rest for now while I help Ella," he said. They all broke apart except for Mr. Baker, Gretel, and me. "Gretel dear aren't you hungry?"

"No," she said. "I don't want to eat."

"Thirsty?" he asked.

"No."

"Mr. Baker, I'm fine," I said. "I don't need help."

"Contrary to your beliefs, I believe I need to take a look at your wrists," Mr. Baker said. "Gretel, get out the first aid kit." She did as she was told and Mr. Baker held out his hands. I sighed, holding out my arms, and he began to unwrap the cloth. I looked away and he sucked in a deep breath.

"What?" I asked, looking back. I cried out when I saw what had happened. The cuts around my wrists were bleeding and slightly swollen. The skin around it was red from irritation. I turned my head away again. The wounds were gruesome. Around the open, bleeding parts was a yellow-green color. Gretel gasped as she turned back from her backpack. Jaq covered his eyes and scurried back in my pocket with Gus.

"They're infected," Gretel said, sucking in a breath.

"It's so painful," I admitted softly. "It's hurt for a while now."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Gretel asked. I shrugged.

"I didn't want to burden you guys," I said. Mr. Baker shook his head.

"You'll never be a burden, you're part of the family," he said. Family. The word filled my heart with joy. I had a family once. And he considered me part of his.

Maybe I'm _not_ better off dead.

Gretel sighed. "This cream will hold you over until we get to the village," she said. "We need to clean these out the best we can, spread the cream on, and change the cloth." She took out her water canteen and handed it to Mr. Baker. "Ella, this is going to hurt, probably a lot. Can you handle it?"

"I wouldn't be me if I couldn't."


	15. Tragedy in the Woods

Four days before I have to go...

The woods, the snowy woods, bright and beautiful, cold and dangerous. The woods had always been a symbol to the town - a symbol that all bad things would come to an end, a symbol that hope would always help you through, because what lie in the woods and all their majesty was a mystery, but you always returned safely and with everything you needed. It was fabled that the wood spirits were always looking out for your best favor, that the woods would provide for everything you could ever want.

Not today, I supposed.

The icy, cold woods have always provided for us, but I suppose that they wanted something in return for their generosity. They gave him to Amelia and Mr. Baker, and now they have taken him back.

He was in my arms, curled up, snoring in raspy, shallow breaths. It worried me so. I should have spoken sooner. He was so, so cold...

Maybe... maybe he has his peace now.

I can still feel his body, Peter's tiny, chilled body, curled up against my chest. I felt responsible for his death. Maybe if I had spoken sooner... Maybe if I hadn't insisted I could hold him despite my "weakened condition..."

Maybe if I wasn't such a screw-up...

"Ella..." Gretel came over to sit by me. We were sitting around Mr. Baker, who was digging a hole into the ground, the frosty, cold ground. Peter was swaddled up in all of his blankets, covering his entire body, his cold, lifeless body...

Amelia was sobbing. Lilla and Jack were crying lightly, hugging each other as they cried. Mr. Baker was crying a little too, and he refused to look at me.

_He died in _my_ arms..._

A small tear skated down my face, and I hugged my knees. Gretel rubbed my shoulder a little (I flinched) and sighed. "It's not your fault..." she murmured. I shook my head.

"I really fucked up..." I said in barely a whisper. Gretel didn't say anything. More tears fell. I looked away as Mr. Baker held Peter, young, innocent Peter, for the last time before lowering him into the hole.

"Our Father who art in Heaven..."

Amelia joined in with him, followed by Lilla and Jack. I hugged my knees to my chest, barely mustering out the words my mother had taught me so long ago. She had said "have faith, Ella, and everything would be okay."

I wasn't really sure if I did.

"I don't know the words..." Gretel whispered in my ear. "My parents never taught me."

"I don't even believe, really," I whispered back. After the prayer, Mr. Baker began to bury the tiny body, the tiny, lifeless, _innocent_ body...

_You worthless piece of..._

Mr. Baker sighed as he stood up. He hugged Amelia close to him and they cried for a few minutes, just cried in each others arms. Jack held Lilla's hand and Lilla leaned into him sadly. I looked away from them, still hugging my knees to my chest while Gretel just looked down. "We need to keep moving," he said after a few minutes, not looking at me, and we all stood up as he started leading us away from the burial sight.

"Mr. Baker, shouldn't we check Ella's wounds?" Gretel asked, running up to him.

"She'll live," he said gruffly. I hung back a little as Gretel jogged back to me.

"He'll come around," she said gently. I didn't respond.

_Look what you've done..._

"Ella, I promise it's not your fault," she said softly, as if she could hear my thoughts. I sighed.

"Gretel, he died _in my arms_," I rasped. She said nothing.

Peter...

_It's all your fault._

_You ruin everything._

* * *

Peter...

Gone...

After everything I had done for Ella, she took away the one thing Amelia and I ever wanted.

Our son.

And now, after all that we had been through, Ella killed him.

"David, how did you react when I died?" Amelia asked me softly. Her fingers were intertwined with mine.

"When you died," I said, still keeping my voice low, "I blamed Jack for the longest time..."

"But it wasn't his fault," Amelia said.

"I know that now. But I was so hurt, so angry... mostly at myself, but I just... I guess I needed somewhere to direct that anger to." Amelia squeezed my hand.

"I think you're doing that to Ella," Amelia said softly. I rolled my eyes, but I knew that was true. A part of me, buried deep, deep down, knows that she isn't technically responsible for the death of Peter. A part of me feels guilty for not leaving him with Mrs. Potts like I was going to. But all of my rage and fury, self-guilt, and hate suddenly directed itself to the lithe brunette girl, the one with the wrist bindings, the one with the two mice peeking out of her dress pocket.

Why does she even keep those stupid rodents around?

I sighed, quickly kissing Amelia's cheek. "It's all her fault, Amelia," I said. "I swear."

"David..."

Behind us, Lilla started crying again. Jack came up to us, clutching her hand in his. "Mr. Baker, how close to home are we?" he asked.

"Pretty close, I'd say," I said. "Why?"

"We're all worn out from the trip and quite honestly, after everything that has happened, I think we all need to rest," he said. I nodded.

"As soon as we get home," I said, squeezing Amelia's hand. "As soon as we all go to our homes."

"Right, I'll walk Gretel home when we get to the town," Jack said, hanging back so Lilla could catch up to him.

"And I'll bring Ella back to her house," I muttered under my breath. "Where she belongs."


	16. Late

"But Mr. Baker, I have four days before - "

"I don't want to hear it Ella, she is your stepmother and therefore legally responsible for you. You have to stay with her whether you like it or not."

"But - "

"No buts Ella, I'm so sick of your complaining. That's all you do is play victim. You're a murderer Ella and I don't want murderers in my house."

My shoulders sagged. I turned to the door, sighing nervously, and rapped on the door. Jaq and Gus skittered from my shoulder to my pocket, poking their noses out just a little. Mr. Baker shook his head, muttering something unintelligible under his breath, and I let a tear roll down my cheek.

_His cold, lifeless body..._

_Murderer..._

The door opened. All of a sudden the rotten smell of alcohol and smoke filled my lungs. I coughed a few times as my stepmother grinned.

"What's the matter?" she said with a rotten-toothed smile. "Discover her defectiveness?"

Mr. Baker clenched his jaw. I looked away nervously.

"I, um..." I stammered.

"_Cinderella_, have you forgotten your place while you were on your little slumber party?" Stepmother asked, shooting daggers with her eyes at me. "You don't speak unless spoken to." I shook my head.

"No, ma'am," I said softly, bowing my head. Mr. Baker's gaze softened a little.

"Christine, I..." he stuttered. "I didn't mean..." I looked up sharply at him. He nodded at me. I raised an eyebrow. His eyes were filled with remorse, regret. Sadness. He didn't truly blame me for the death. It's like when his wife "died." But then, something clicked in his eyes. And I didn't like what I saw. "Take her. I don't want to see her."

"Gladly, darling." And I was thrown into the house and the door slammed and the bright, icy world with the dark, snowy woods disappeared from my view for who knows how long.

And all hell broke loose, and the world went black.

* * *

I trudged through the snow and ice back to my bakery, my head filled with horrible, horrible thoughts I didn't want to have. My stomach twisted with anger. It shouldn't have had to come to this. But I had no choice. I just needed to be away from her for a while. I couldn't look at her. Not after what she...

I sighed, shaking my head. Terrible thoughts kept rushing, I should be getting home to Lilla, Jack, Gretel, and most importantly, Amelia. My love.

I clenched my fist and kicked a snowbank. "It's not fair," I grunted, sighing a little. For a fleeting moment I had a bad feeling that Ella wasn't okay. But I pushed it aside. "Serves her right. No, no David, you don't think that. Ugh, I don't know what I think. And now I'm talking to myself." But as I sat down on the sidewalk, I noticed a trail in the snow.

Paw prints.

_Rabbit_ paw prints.

_Golden, sparkling_ paw prints.

I stood up suddenly.

_"There's a rabbit, a magic white rabbit..."_

_"Every grave he lands on..."_

_"...Back into the world as a ghost..."_

"Peter!"

Unconsciously, I started following the prints, the sparkling, golden prints, wherever they led. Amelia hadn't given much information on this white, magic rabbit when she had appeared, but I knew enough from what she _did_ tell us to know that maybe, if I lured it over Peter's grave...

I began to run. Maybe if I could catch up...

The trail led around the outskirts of town. The tracks were slightly far between, which, I concluded, meant the rabbit was running. The tracks, I noticed, had come from the forest, encircled the entire town, and then disappeared back into the woods. I continued to follow. Through the woods, weaving through the trees and the snowbanks. There's the candy house, abandoned but still sweet-smelling. The prints go into the house and disappear, but reappear through a back door, which, I realized, (had we known it existed), would have been very useful in our plan to save...

The tracks continued behind the house through a garden I hadn't noticed before, where chocolate carrots and candy canes and sugar plums and caramel apples and other magical, sugary candies were growing perfectly fine, despite their abandonment. All of a sudden, the tracks stopped.

And led straight to the white rabbit with the golden tipped fur, a golden watch strung around its neck. It was sitting there, momentarily distracted by a chocolate carrot.

"Hey!" I called out. "Here, bunny bunny bunny bunny bunny!"

It looked up, fear written across its face.

"I'm late..." it murmured. "I need to find the rabbit hole!"

I froze. "You talk?!" I cried. It looked at the watch, squeaked in surprise, yelled out "I'm late!" again and ran off. Before I could even think of following it, it was gone.


	17. The Cat, the Rabbit, and the Witch

"We need to follow that rabbit!"

On the move again, into the woods. I sighed, shaking my head to myself. This time was different however. Last time, I would have liked for the servant to stay back.

Now, I'm wishing my friend was here.

We haven't heard from Ella in the week we have been back. Mr. Baker claimed it was for the best, but I was really worried. What if her stepmother hurt her?

We continued to run after the white rabbit. Mr. Baker had seen it the day we came back, but we hadn't left right away because of a snowstorm. The woods were covered in the icy slush. I wasn't exactly sure why we were following the hare, but he was certain we could lure it over Peter's grave.

I secretly wondered if he could do the same for Hansel.

"Mr. Baker," I gasped, catching up to him. "Didn't you say once that Ella was essential? And that she is great at making plans and such?"

"Gretel, none of that matters."

"But Mr. Baker, we _need_ her!"

"Gretel, it doesn't matter!"

My shoulders sagged and I fell back a little. My long, wavy hair fell in tangles behind me. My blue, silk dress kept getting caught on branches and leaves, and at some point it tore. I stopped suddenly, and for a fleeting moment I got angry. But then I smiled. It didn't matter. It also didn't matter that my shiny black flats were covered in scratches and mud. Or that my black bow was no longer tied in my hair.

_"Maaaoooowwww!" _

I shrieked as a furry body rubbed itself against my leg. Jack and Lilla stopped immediately, then Mr. Baker and Amelia walked back to me from their lead. A black, long-haired cat with a white chin and white paws was hissing at me, meowing over and over. It started running away, (which is when I noticed that the end of its tail had been cut off, and quite recently too - what a shame, it was a beautiful cat), then came back when it realized we weren't following.

"Should we follow it?" I asked Mr. Baker. Amelia nodded.

"But we're so close to the rabbit!" Mr. Baker protested.

"But the cat might have something to show us," Amelia said. I began to follow the cat as it trotted in the opposite direction of where we were going. The cat was effortlessly avoiding the obstacles as if they didn't exist, while we fumbled clumsily behind it. I kept hot on the pursuit though, because I had a feeling the cat had something important to present.

He did.

There, lying in the snow, was Ella. She was curled up against a snowbank, her eyes half closed, her breath coming out in shallow, raspy breaths, forming small, visible clouds in the cold air. The cat padded over to her and nudged her with his snout, giving a worried _meow. _Ella reached out a shaky hand to pat his head. Her eyes were baggy and slightly cloudy, her hair matted with blood.

"Lucifer?" she breathed, resting her head against the snow, closing her eyes fully now.

"Ella," I said softly, crawling up next to her. "What happened?"

"I..." She was shaking, shivering so badly I thought she would faint. Her body was covered in bruises, some fresher than others, and blood too, but nothing looked infected. Her wrists were healed now though, I noted, so that was an improvement. "I..." The cat - Lucifer - nudged her again and purred. Amelia and Jack and Lilla immediately sat around her with me, Mr. Baker just standing there staring.

"Ella honey, do you remember anything?" Amelia asked. Ella feebly crawled off the snowbank so she was just curled up on the ground.

"I just need to... to close my eyes for a few minutes," she said softly.

"No!" I cried. "Don't close your eyes! Mr. Baker, help us!"

"I did this..." he murmured. Lucifer started scratching at Ella's arm, letting out a confused _"mrow?"_

"Here Ella, take this," I said, removing my coat I was wearing and putting it over the ice cold girl. Amelia and Jack did the same. "Don't close your eyes Ella, just try to warm up."

"Oh dear, this is an awkward situation isn't it?" a voice said all of a sudden. The witch appeared by our side suddenly. Lucifer hissed, arching his back. "What was the deal we made? Something like 'just this one time I'll spare her, but next time I won't'? And to think, it's only been a week!" Amelia stood up.

"Don't," she said softly. "Please."

"Save it hun, you're lucky I spared her the first time, and not only that, but I didn't take your dreadful son's soul either when he died." The witch grinned. "Well, I did, but not while he was dying. I waited until it started to wander." Mr. Baker stepped toward us, clenching his fists angrily.

"You_ took_ our son's soul?" he growled. The witch laughed.

"Why yes," she said. "As a matter of fact, I really only need Ella's soul to make me whole again."

"How have you not turned back to dust yet?" Amelia asked. "We only have three days to turn human again, remember?"

"I have magic," the witch said. "People with magic can cheat. Now, give me the girl."

"Don't take her," Mr. Baker said.

"But you wanted to get rid of her, remember?" the witch asked. "You didn't want to see her." Mr. Baker's shoulders sagged.

"I didn't mean it," he said softly. "I just, I was angry, but I know it was uncalled for. But she's my daughter, and I haven't been a great father lately. I need to make it up for her."

"She's _dying_," the witch argued, but then she stopped. Ella was struggling to sit up. I helped her. No longer was she shaking, and her skin had warmed up a tiny bit. "She's... _surviving._.." The witch sighed. "You got lucky _again_, fools." And then, she was gone. Mr. Baker sat down next to Ella. She looked away.

"What'd they do to you?" he asked her softly. She bit the inside of her cheek. "Ella..." He reached out a hand to put on her shoulder, but she flinched, whimpering. "I'm sorry."

"She..." Ella's voice trailed off, and she pointed suddenly at a small figure a few yards away. "The rabbit."

"Are you up for..." Mr. Baker stopped as suddenly the rabbit jumped and disappeared into the ground. "The rabbit hole!" I helped Ella stand, and we started running after the rabbit.


End file.
